


Altered History: Chasing Unicorns and Wasps

by TKelParis



Series: Altered History [5]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Error Reset, Episode: s04e07 The Unicorn and the Wasp, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-05 22:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17333912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TKelParis/pseuds/TKelParis
Summary: The Library left a mark on both Eight and Donna. They each realized they had feelings for the other, but felt unable to act on them. How will meeting Agatha Christie and his nearly dying change their dynamic?





	1. Arriving at a Party

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassikat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassikat/gifts).



> Disclaimer: Utterly not mine. Just taking things from canon, mixing in Big Finish stories, and adding a healthy dose of my imagination.
> 
> Dedication: cassikat, for getting me interested in the Eighth Doctor in the first place. tardis_mole for being an awesome beta. And basmathgirl for encouraging me to continue the series and keep posting.
> 
> Author's Note: Started during NaNoWriMo when I suddenly found “Echos on Oodsphere” finishing two chapters sooner than I expected (leaving one flashback bit out in the original draft), and to keep me going. I had to figure out on the fly what else I needed to write, and figured out later where the ideas would fit.
> 
> Once again, please make sure you've read the earlier installments: The Runaway Bride, Prophecies and Pompeii, Echoes on Ood Sphere, and Time Trials. Otherwise you'll have no context for why Donna is traveling with Eight.
> 
> Originally, I was not going to include “The Unicorn and the Wasp” as one of the DT-era stories moved into this series. However, when the flashbacks in the last story stopped naturally at the end of “The Christmas Invasion” and did not continue to the needed final flashbacks, I knew I needed one more story. So the idea from my beta of using some brief flashbacks of things needed to show the evolution of Eight and Donna's relationship turned into a full-blown story. I think it works better this way, because it prepares for the rest of the series. I did rewatch the episode before posting, to catch any details I previously missed. Mind, the American DVDs have terrible closed captioning for the episodes; a lot of lines are presented incorrectly.
> 
> And this is not Eight's first time investigating a murder. If you can get hold of a copy of “Max Warp,” I highly recommend it. It's basically “Top Gear in space meets Agatha Christie”. PM's own description of the story.
> 
> Canon Error Reset Alert Note: You might have noticed that I developed a habit of giving the date for when a chapter is set wherever possible. Well, when I looked up when Agatha Christie disappeared so I could give the date, I was stunned to learn that RTD allowed a writer to place it during the summer and not the near winter when it actually happened. I know Doctor Who is known for bad writing, but this made me face-palm myself. So... I'm adjusting the setting to the historical date, and adjusting the events and scenes as needed. Also, the sheer number of historical research fails were abnormally high in this episode even for Doctor Who. Hence a lot of adjustments in addition to the season change.

_The Vortex_

_Time and Date Unknowable_

 

It was very quiet inside the TARDIS as her two occupants worked together on the controls. Quiet was not uncommon when Donna was learning more about piloting the ship, but there were usually some casual comments being tossed back and forth. Conversation was never limited to needed adjustments for the journey.

 

At length, they landed.

 

“So... where exactly are we?” asked Donna. “What's out there?”

 

“Let's see,” the Doctor answered, looking at the screen. “Hmm. Apparently the year is 1926. We've landed in the countryside of England.”

 

“Really? Her random setting brought us to another time in Earth's past? Why? What trouble has she found?”

 

“All good questions, Donna. But the air seems healthy, although you'll want a coat or jacket. It's not snowing, in case you were about to ask. Shall we investigate?”

 

“Yes.” She went to grab the thick jacket she kept on the coat rack the TARDIS created for them near the doors. “Maybe there will be some fun out there at the same time.”

 

He frowned as he put on the satchel. “Don't we always manage to have some fun on most adventures? And have at least a few laughs during the rest?”

 

Donna smiled wryly as she finished putting on her jacket. “Well, yes,” she agreed as he led them outside. “It's not like you go looking for trouble. I've learned that much about you.”

 

“You're being kind,” he said, hoping his smile wasn't as nervous as he felt.

 

“I'm only brash when the occasion calls it.”

 

He laughed. “That's true.” He looked around as he closed the doors behind them. “Oh, smell that air. Grass and lemonade. And a little bit of mint. A hint of mint. You don't get that mixture of smells outside of the nineteen twenties.”

  
“You mean to tell me that you can tell what year it is just by smelling?”

  
“Well, within a certain range, yes.” After all, he saw no reason to give her more room to tease him.

  
Donna snorted. “Or maybe that big vintage car coming up the drive gave it away.”

  
They watched as an open-topped tourer turned on the gravel in front of the manor house, whose grounds the TARDIS had landed in. The driver, a male wearing goggles and a hat of the era, sounded the horn. The sound was utterly distinctive for the era.

 

The Doctor and Donna hurried to hide behind a wall and some shrubbery, and saw two servants come out, the butler and a footman. As they did, the Doctor said, “Good identification, Donna. The year ranges went from 'Victorian' to 'Veteran' to 'Vintage'. Many in your time would call 'Vintage' cars 'Veteran' cars instead.”

 

“Yeah, and all of those are pretty much only seen in museums,” she whispered as they reached the wall. “Then it goes to 'Post-Vintage', 'Classic', and then 'Old'. I say that last one should be split into 'Rare' and 'Old'.”

  
“The Professor's baggage, Richards,” commanded the butler, unknowingly interrupting them. “Step lively.”

  
The driver got out and removed his goggles. As he  walked away from the car , the butler greeted him. “Good afternoon, Professor Peach.”

  
Professor Peach nodded. “Hello, Greeves, old man.”

  
The chime of a bicycle rang, and a younger man in a vicar's garb rode up the lane.

  
“Ah, Reverend,” greeted Professor Peach, just as he reached Greeve's side.

  
The Reverend nodded with a grin as he drew up near them both. “Professor Peach. Beautiful day. The Lord's in his heaven, all's right with the world.”

  
“Reverend Golightly,” Greeves acknowledged after Golightly got off his bicycle, and motioned for a footman to take the bicycle into proper storage. “Lady Eddison requests you make yourselves comfortable in your rooms. Cocktails will be served in the sun room from half past one.”

  
“You go on up,” Professor Peach said to Golightly. “I need check something in the library.”

  
Golightly was plainly curious. “Oh?”

  
“Alone,” the Professor added, pointedly.

  
Golightly frowned as they walked inside. “It's supposed to be a party. All this work will be the death of you.”

  
From their hiding place, the Doctor and Donna each mused silently over what they heard. Donna was beaming.

 

“Never mind Planet Zog. A party in the 1920s, that's more like it.”

  
“Zog would be more fun. But the trouble is, Donna, we haven't been invited.”

 

She turned a glare on him.

 

He grinned. “Oh, I forgot. Yes, we have,” he corrected smoothly, holding up the Psychic Paper.

 

Her smile only grew bigger than before. “Yes! Now to change to fit in. Will you?”

 

“Oh, I think I can make this work. It fits in well enough. You'll cover for us both.”

 

She snorted. “Fine. Then wait for me outside the TARDIS. No getting a look.”

 

As she hurried back, he was glad that she didn't see his increased nervousness. Whereas she was more making sure that he remembered the boundaries of respect; things were too blurry between them as it was.

 

/=/=/=/=/=/=/

 

“How long does it take to change into period clothing?” the Doctor grumbled after what felt like far too long. Donna had never taken this long for any of the period outfits before. He finally knocked on the TARDIS door. “We'll be late for cocktails. Surely you want to make that,” he called to her, hoping the Old Girl would make his words audible for Donna.

  
Luckily for his sanity, Donna emerged and closed the doors behind her. She had found a beaded, mostly brown dress suitable for the period. Her hair was pulled back into a bun with little touches that only enhanced her hair. Evidently the act of dressing up made her glow, and even though the dress was not the most flattering the era could offer for someone of her figure (and the color was the worst part of it for her complexion, in his opinion), she still carried it off beautifully. Yet the light cardigan, which was acceptable given the unusually warm temperature, managed to both flatter the dress and her with its rose-colored Aran-knit and glass buttons. The Doctor found himself staring at her in shock.

  
Donna's grin barely faded when she noticed his stunned reaction. Although she struck a pose to hide her own nervousness. “What do you think? Flapper or slapper?” Yet she added a little glance at him that even nervousness could not prevent from being flirtatious.

  
He finally found a big smile. “Flapper. You look lovely.”

 

A blush crossed her face before she could stop it. But all she did was accept the arm he silently offered, and let him lead her towards the sounds of the party starting. Swinging her little fan in her other hand offered a little distraction from the tingling she felt over their contact. And from the hint that he had also shivered a little when she took his arm.

 

“It was the strangest thing,” Donna said. “This dress kept appearing before me. I had the feeling that the TARDIS wanted to show me other items, but something interfered.”

 

The Doctor paled as they walked. “Why would She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named want to interfere with your clothing choices?”

 

“I was hoping you might know,” she said, her voice at a whisper. “Unless it was the other way around?”

 

Luckily for their embarrassed sensibilities, they ran into a footman who promptly summoned the butler they saw earlier. “Good afternoon...?”

 

The Doctor was ready with the psychic paper. “Hello, Greeves. I believe we are expected.”

 

Greeves looked at the paper and accepted what he saw. “Very good, Doctor and Mrs. Noble. Where is your luggage?”

 

The pair stammered until Donna thought of an excuse. “Oh, there was a huge miscommunication and we ended up well ahead of it. It should arrive later.”

 

The Doctor nodded. “Oh, yes! Very embarrassing mix-up.”

 

Greeves took that in his stride, as all butlers were capable of. “Then we shall be prepared. Lady Eddison will be expecting you in the sun room shortly, but shall you need to be brought to your room first?”

 

“Oh, no, no, no!” the Doctor cried, preventing Donna from making a similar protest. “We're rather in need of refreshments and would join Lady Eddison in the sun room, if that will do?”

 

Greeves nodded, not quite concealing his thoughts fully. “Follow me, then.”

 

As they walked behind him, Donna leaned in to whisper, “Doctor, how many waves would we make if we corrected them now?”

 

“Too many. I fear we're stuck going along with the universe's joke on us. You won't hate me for what the-”

 

“No. People will make assumptions, right? Playing along had to happen eventually, I suppose.”

 

Although what to do when the assumptions matched rather close to your own secret wishes? Neither knew the other was wondering that.

 

They reached the conservatory in time to see a young footman start a record playing. As they were noticed the housekeeper, a woman clearly from India, clapped her hands twice and gave orders. “Look sharp. We have guests.”

 

“Doctor and Mrs. Noble,” Greeves said to servants. He turned to the pair. “Drinks, sir? Ma'am?”

  
“Sidecar, please,” Donna said.

  
“And a lime and soda, thank you,” the Doctor added.

  
Greeves nodded and went to give the instructions to one of the footmen.  The young man was being careful to follow his instructions to the letter, as if trying to impress  or prove himself.

 

They looked around them at the Georgian sun room, built of brick and large floor-to-ceiling windows with little glass squares set into the lead frames. The arched windows gave the room a much older feel, even though it was a later addition of the original house. It had far more character than the UVP conservatories of Donna's era. And for added charm, someone had thought to put up a few Christmas decorations in preparation for the coming season. Chains of golden bells lined the ceiling and palladians, and a small pine tree in the corner had been festooned with lengths of pearls, handmade wooden ornaments, glass baubles and tiny candles that were as yet unlit.

 

“Wow, that is beautiful,” Donna murmured.

 

“I agree,” the Doctor said. “Better than anything I've seen of late. Maybe it's time to complete the adjustments I started as the last me.”

 

Soon Greeves' voice caught their attention. “May I announce Lady Clemency Eddison.”

  
A petite older, blonde woman came into view. Her dress, expensive fur stole and pose spoke volumes about her upbringing.

  
“Lady Eddison, hello,” the Doctor greeted warmly.

 

Lady Eddison frowned delicately, even as she accepted the Doctor's hand in greeting. “Forgive me, but who exactly might you be, and what are you doing here?”

  
“Oh, I'm Dr. John Noble. Call me Doctor,” he said, continuing their unintentional charade. “And this is my wife, Donna. We're of the Chiswick Nobles.”

  
Donna dropped a perfect curtsy. “Good afternoon, my lady,” she said, adopting a posh accent. “Topping day, what? Spiffing. Top hole.”

  
The Doctor quickly whispered, “No, no, no. Please, don't do that, Donna.” He quickly showed the psychic paper to Lady Eddison, making a mental note to explain what was more typical of the era to Donna the first chance he got, without being overheard. “We were thrilled to receive your invitation, my lady. We met at the Ambassador's reception.”

  
The psychic paper did the trick. Lady Eddison gave an embarrassed grin, lightly motioning them to join her where the drinks were being prepared. “Doctor, how could I forget you? But one must be sure with the Unicorn on the loose.”

  
“A unicorn? Brilliant. Where?” asked the Doctor, eager for an innocent adventure.

  
Lady Eddison laughed. “The Unicorn. The jewel thief? Nobody knows who he is. He's just struck again. Snatched Lady Babbington's pearls right from under her nose,” she added as they all received their drinks.

  
“Funny place to wear pearls,” Donna muttered before taking a sip.

 

The Doctor also took a sip, all to hide the smirk over her unexpectedly funny comment. He was also grateful that Donna had not make a joke at his expense over thinking their host meant an animal. He had walked right into several right then and there, he was certain of it. And she was certain to share them later, he would bet on that.

 

“May I announce Colonel Hugh Curbishley, and the Honourable Roger Curbishley,” said Greeves.

  
A man around Donna's age appeared as Greeves spoke, pushing a wheelchair carrying an older man with a jovial expression.

  
“My husband, and my son,” Lady Eddison introduced.

  
The Colonel nodded to the Doctor and Donna. “Forgive me for not rising. Never been the same ever since that flu epidemic back in '18.”

 

“Oh, dear. I know several in your situation and none have your cheerfulness,” the Doctor said while one servant offered the Colonel a drink. He recalled the 1918-1919 Spanish Flu epidemic, having endured an adventure falling right in the middle of an outbreak. All sorts of side effects could and did happen, especially with an epidemic that took more lives than the war that preceded it.

  
Roger took notice of Donna and grinned widely. “My word, you are a super lady,” he praised, taking her hand and kiss ing it.

  
Donna liked being the center of attention from a good-looking, charming man. Even though he was not the man she wished were kissing her hand.  Or anywhere else for that matter, but that was not something she would voice aloud. “Oh, I like the cut of your jib. Chin, chin.”

  
The Doctor kept a cool smile on his face and extended his hand, making his presence known. “Hello. I'm the Doctor.”

 

Donna worried that another pissing match might be in store, and – as Roger let go of her hand to accept the Doctor's handshake – quickly added, “Congratulations on being in government. Must be an honour, being so young.”

  
Roger almost seemed relieved to  have an excuse to  stop the  particular attention to Donna,  although he stood a little taller once he released the handshake . “Indeed, it is. It is quite the opportunity and challenge, being an Honourable Member of the Opposition. How do you do,  sir ?”

  
“Very well, thank you.” The Doctor did not fault anyone for noticing Donna, but the sudden change in the man's focus made him frown internally. Even if it also made him breathe a little easier to be assumed to have prior claim to Donna. It was a lot like those other times when men paid Donna too much attention, but this time he knew why he didn't like it. Although he had been unaware that the young man's title had nothing to do with his mother's.

  
The young footman who had been making the drinks under the butler's instructions approached Roger with a drink on a tray. “Your usual, sir?”

  
“Ah. Thank you, Davenport. Just how I like it,” Roger praised, clearly pleased with the service. Although he gave a quick warning look before the footman nodded briskly and walked away.

 

Suddenly Roger's attention to Donna and then shifting away made sense to the Doctor. Especially in light of the exchange he had just witnessed. And if he was reading body language correctly, Roger's parents were pretending ignorance.

  
Donna, not noticing where his attention was, leaned in to whisper to the Doctor. “How come she's an Eddison, but her husband and son are Curbishleys?”

  
He leaned in, speaking in the same tone as they watched the married couple interact with warm affection fitting their station. “The Eddison title descends through her. One day Roger will be a lord. And so you know, curtsies are only given to royalty.”

 

Donna nodded, comprehension dawning just as Greeves introduced a fashionable young woman, wearing a fox stole for warmth over her red and black dress, joining the group. “Robina Redmond.”

 

“She's the absolute hit of the social scene,” Lady Eddison explained to the Doctor and Donna. “A must. Miss Redmond.”

  
Miss Redmond smiled and gracefully accepted the offered hand. “Spiffing to meet you at last, my lady. What super fun.”

 

“Reverend Arnold Golightly,” Greeves continued a few seconds later, introducing the vicar they had seen earlier.

  
“Ah, Reverend. How are you?” greeted Lady Eddison. The concern in her tone and in how she offered her hand to the Reverend was explained as she continued, “I heard about the church last Thursday night. Those ruffians breaking in.”

  
“You apprehended them, I hear,” the Colonel stated.

  
Golightly nodded, a bit awkward over the mention. “As the Christian Fathers taught me, we must forgive them their trespasses. Quite literally.”

  
Roger,  having been entertaining Robina Redmond in conversation, had finished his drink and remarked, “Some of these young boys deserve a descent thrashing.”

  
Davenport was  already immediately by Roger's side with another of the same drink. “Couldn't agree more, sir,”  he said, taking the already finished glass and switching with the full one.

 

The Doctor's eyes widened. Davenport was so far out of line with the protocol for servants that he was certain Greeves was considering performing a thrashing on Davenport himself, on the spot. But Roger cleared his throat and gave a few clear hand signals meant to chastise Davenport and call Greeves off. Within seconds it seemed the danger to the footman had passed. For the time being.

  
Donna noticed the subtle look exchanged between the two men. She could read that miles away. Sighing, she whispered to the Doctor. “Typical. All the decent Human men are on the other bus.”

  
The Doctor stilled, puzzled. “Well, what about Time Lords?”

 

She blinked and looked at him in surprise. Was he offering?!

  
“Now, milady,” Golightly suddenly said, preventing Donna from quizzing the Doctor about his nervous question. “What about this special guest you promised us?”

  
“Here she is,” Lady Eddison said as a thirty-something woman in an elegant blue dress with a dark fur stole walked up. “A lady who needs no introduction.”

  
The woman was instantly embarrassed by the applause. “No, no, please, don't. Thank you, Lady Eddison. Honestly, there's no need.” She turned to greet the Doctor and Donna with a proffered hand. “Agatha Christie.”

  
Donna blinked  even as she accepted it . “What about her?”

  
“That's me.”

  
“No,” Donna gasped, breathing in shock even as a huge smile grew on her face. “You're kidding.”

  
The Doctor's eyes had widened the instant she said her name, but he waited until Donna was silent from awe to praise the new guest and extend his own hand, his own grin competing with Donna's for showing excitement. “Agatha Christie. I've just finished reading your latest book. A marvelous mind. I was telling my companion just the other day how much of a fan I am and how I have wanted to met you, only to learn that she feels quite the same. And here you are. I'm the Doctor and this is Donna. And may I say, I am very much looking forward to your next book?”

  
Agatha's polite smile was marred by a frown. “You make a rather unusual couple.”

  
The Doctor blushed a deep red. “Oh, no. No, no, no. We're not m-,” he said awkwardly, cutting himself off at the last second once he remembered their cover.

  
“We're not a-,” Donna said at the same time, just as awkwardly and even more aware of the blushing, being a ginger. But they both cut themselves off in time to avoid any missteps in front of their hosts.

  
Agatha's smile turned amused. “Not married? Well, obviously not. No wedding rings.”

 

They both looked at their left ring finger with a nervous laugh, and while Donna glanced at the Doctor as she registered his acting just as she did, he said, “Oh. Well, you don't miss a trick. It's rather recent and the rings got mixed into our luggage.”

 

“Which we got separated from,” Donna added.

  
Agatha looked like the doubted their story, but chose to not challenge in.“Ah, then that would be why neither of you has a ring line. You know, I would have stayed not married if I were you,” she added quietly. “The thrill is in the chase, never in the capture.”

 

The Doctor and Donna each looked at the other, baffled, but their gazes caught as they recognized a mutual awkwardness.

  
Luckily for them, Lady Eddison addressed Agatha, drawing her away gently. “Mrs Christie, I'm so glad you could come. I'm one of your greatest followers. I've read all six of your books. Er, is, er, Mister Christie not joining us?”

  
Agatha lost her smile, although she pretended she was unaffected. “Is he needed? Can't a woman make her own way in the world?”

  
“Don't give my wife ideas,” said the Colonel, smiling in amusement.

 

What Agatha said made the Doctor's mind churn, and he needed to do something. He chose to start by finishing his drink. It was steadying his nerves to take control of the situation.

  
“Now Mrs. Christie, I have a question,” said Roger. “Why a Belgian detective?”

  
The Doctor motioned to the newspaper the Colonel had in his hands. “Excuse me, Colonel.” Luckily he got a nod of acceptance and he borrowed the paper, stepping away to read it.

  
Agatha did not miss a beat. “Belgians make such lovely buns.”

 

It got the desired reaction out of the group – aside from the Doctor, who was distracted. Donna's laugh was only a little affected. It _was_ amusing and would have made her Granddad Noble do a spit-take, although her attention was more on the growing frown on the Doctor's face. And that his attention seemed divided between the paper and Agatha Christie herself.

  
“I say, where on Earth's Professor Peach?” Roger asked, looking around. “He'd love to meet Mrs Christie.”

  
Golightly answered, “Said he was going to the library.”

  
Lady Eddison did not notice the Doctor's subtle motion to Donna to join him away from the others. “Miss Chandrakala, would you go and collect the Professor?”

  
“At once, Milady,” the housekeeper answered, and walked away.

  
When the Doctor sensed Donna step right next to him, he looked up at her. “The date on this newspaper.”

  
“What about it?” she whispered back as she noted it was December 4, 1926.

  
“It's the day Agatha Christie disappeared,” he quietly remarked.

 

Donna's mouth went slack.

 

“ She'd just discovered her husband was having an affair,” he continued  after folding the paper .

  
Donna looked at Agatha, watching her actions. “You'd never think to look at her; smiling away.”

  
“Well, she's British and moneyed. Isn't that what they do? They carry on. Except for this one time. No one knows exactly what happened. She just vanished. Her car will be found tomorrow morning by the side of a lake. Ten days later, Agatha Christie turns up in a hotel in Harrogate. Said she'd lost her memory. She never spoke about the disappearance 'til the day she died, but whatever it was...”

  
“It's about to happen,” Donna breathed, knowing that this must be the trouble the TARDIS had detected.

  
“And we get to solve it.”

  
“Professor!” Miss Chandrakala cried, running out of the manor house. “The library! Murder! Murder!”


	2. Mysteries Afoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Donna and Agatha begin the investigation.

_English Countryside_

_December 4, 1926_

 

The Doctor and Donna rushed ahead of everyone else. Only Agatha and Greeves kept up. The butler gave directions as to where the library was, and they quickly arrived. The Doctor found Professor Peach lying on the ground motionless, blood seeping from his head. He promptly knelt by the body.

  
“Oh, my goodness,” Greeves breathed.

  
“Bashed on the head with a blunt instrument,” the Doctor noted aloud to the ladies, who also knelt near the body. His eyes drifted to the professor's wrist and tapped it. “His watch broke as he fell. Time of death was a quarter past one.”

  
As he stood and looked through the papers on the desk, Donna knelt by an object with some blood on it. “A bit of pipe. Call me Hercules Poirot, but I reckon that's blunt enough.”

  
In a reflected surface, the Doctor noticed Agatha finding a piece of burnt paper in the grate and putting it in her bag. But he said nothing about that. “Well, there's nothing worth killing for in this lot. Dry as dust.”

  
Donna stepped right beside him, the weirdness of the situation hitting her. “Hold on. _ The Body I _ _ n The Library _ ? I mean, Professor Peach, in the library, with the lead piping?”

  
He was about to answer when the other guests forced their way in.

  
“Let me see,” Lady Eddison said.

  
“Out of my way,” the Colonel demanded.

 

But then they all saw it for themselves. “Gerald?” Lady Eddison cried.

  
Golightly trembled. “Saints preserve us.”

  
“Oh, how awful,” whispered Miss Redmond.

  
Agatha attempted to calm everyone. “Someone should call the police.”

  
“You don't have to,” said the Doctor, drawing out the psychic paper again. This was the perfect timing. “Chief Inspector Noble from Scotland Yard, known as the Doctor. Mrs. Noble is the plucky young assistant who helps me out.”

  
Lady Eddison looked again at the paper, but saw what he wanted her to. “I say.”

  
“Mrs. Christie was right that this is a police matter. Go into the sitting room,” the Doctor ordered, ignoring the tension he felt coming from Donna. “I will question each of you in turn.”

  
Agatha looked at him with a brief look of disbelief, but she saw no reason to challenge it. “Come along. Do as the Doctor says. Leave the room undisturbed.” She then led the others away and closed the doors behind her.

  
As soon as the doors closed, Donna turned on the Doctor, even though she kept her voice quiet. “The plucky young assistant who helps me out?” she repeated.

  
“Donna, there were no policewomen in 1926,” he defended himself as he knelt again to look at the body from different angles. “Had to use some excuse to have you help me, and aren't all the female helpers plucky? And please, don't use those words you used earlier. They don't help you with fitting in.”

  
“I'll pluck you in a minute,” she growled. “And as the daughter of a retired policeman, I finally get to correct you on the history of my country.”

 

That made him look up in confusion.

 

“There _were_ women police officers in 1926 and had been since World War 1,” Donna continued, sharp and blunt since his assumption had hit a nerve. “The first woman to attain the rank Sergeant was promoted in 1919, and she had to be on the force for at least two years before that, as a Constable. Most of them were limited to clerical or secretarial duties, but some were drivers or even assistants on sensitive cases involving female or child victims.”

 

He was taken aback by her venom. Not to mention discovering she knew more than he did. “Oh. Sorry.”

 

Donna sighed. “In any case, why don't we phone the real police?” she added, her anger lessening a little.

  
Something caught his attention and he grabbed collection tools from his satchel. “Well, aside from the fact that telephones didn't become popular or affordable, even for the rich, until after World War II? The last thing we want is PC Plod sticking his nose in, especially now I've found this. Morphic residue,” he explained after scraping the tiny sample of organic material off the floorboards. He stood to show her while he reached for his sonic.

 

“Morphic? Doesn't sound very 1926.”

  
“It's not. It's left behind when certain shape-shifting species genetically re-encode,” he explained as he scanned it.

  
She looked back at the doors. “The murderer's an alien?”

  
He hemmed and hawed slightly. “What it means is that one of that lot is an alien in human form. They may or not be the murderer, but they were present in this room close to the murder. Oh, I'm going to need to scan this with the TARDIS' instruments. The sonic isn't powerful enough,” he admitted as he found a way to store the material safely.

  
Donna's mind was racing. “Yeah, but think about it. There's a murder, a mystery, and Agatha Christie.”

  
“So, it's a strange event. Happens to me all the time.”

  
“No, but isn't that more than a bit weird?” she insisted. “Agatha Christie didn't walk around surrounded by murders. Not really. I mean, that's like meeting Charles Dickens and he's surrounded by ghosts at Christmas.”

  
The Doctor thought about it as he tucked the now protected evidence away. “True. Wonder if I'll ever meet him.”

  
Donna laughed. “Oh, come on! It's not like we could drive across country and find Enid Blyton having tea with Noddy.” She paused, suddenly feeling a childhood dream coming back. “Could we? Noddy's not real. Is he? Tell me there's no Noddy.”

  
The Doctor grinned. “Well, I don't know if there's a Noddy. Shall we see if we can find Enid Blyton after this?”

 

“Yes!” she enthused as they went to the door.

 

Outside the library Agatha was standing in a build-in area with a bench – a rather convenient spot for changing shoes after going outside, as evidenced by the boots stored underneath – waiting for them. She stepped out as Donna added to the Doctor, “I never know what you're going to say next. I mean, next thing I know, you'll be telling me it's like _Murder On The Orient Express_ , and they all did it.”

  
“Murder on the Orient Express?” Agatha asked, intrigued.

  
“Ooo, yeah. One of your best,” Donna praised.

  
“But not yet,” the Doctor whispered to her.

  
Agatha looked strangely at them, but the idea was simmering in her head already. “Marvellous idea, though.”

  
Donna was embarrassed at showing herself up in front of two people whose opinions she valued. However, she hid it well. “Yeah. Tell you what. Copyright Donna Noble, okay?”

  
The Doctor's lips twisted into a grin that he had to fight off. “Anyway. Agatha and I will question the suspects. Donna, you search the bedrooms. Look for clues. Including more residue,” he added sotto voce as he searched his satchel. “And you'll need this.”

 

Donna looked at the large magnifying glass in his hand, and fixed him a dubious look. “Is that for real?”

  
He saw her reluctance, and wondered if he had accidentally insulted her again. He gave a pleading look. “Please, please, please, Donna. You're ever so plucky.”

  
She sighed, unable to hide that his particular look was hard to resist. “Please be careful using that look on someone else,” she requested as she took the magnifying glass and headed upstairs. And thanked the heavens that he had not plucked it out of one of his trouser front pockets.

  
The Doctor watched her a for a few seconds. It dawned on him that she had seemed rather affected by him. Did he dare hope? Well, not that he could act on it at present. So he refocused his attention with some cheer. “Right then. Well, I've solved murder mysteries before, but never with someone who creates them. This will be different.”

  
Agatha glared at him. “How like a man to have fun while there's disaster all around him.”

  
She suddenly reminded him a lot of Donna, and was glad that his dear companion was not in earshot. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

  
“I'll work with you, gladly, but for the sake of justice, not your own amusement,” Agatha promised, scathingly, before she walked toward the main part of the house.

  
“Yeah,” he breathed. “At least you won't be taking the mickey out of me half the time.”

 

/=/=/=/=/=/=/

 

Donna spent a while looking through each of the rooms, all while one person after another went to speak with the Doctor and Agatha. But she found nothing.

 

It left her with plenty of time to think about what had happened since arriving at Eddison Manor, and all between her and the Doctor. The looks he had given her, the way he pleaded for her to investigate, and how he nearly used the phrase 'we're not married' when Agatha had said 'couple'. It was all making her heart race.

 

She had not believed it possible that her alien best friend could return her feelings. But everything that had happened, including some of his reactions from before the Library and even while there, was leaning in that direction. And it was not flirting. He had to know he had her attention, so he was not really flirting with her. Never really had, except in a playful tease over something she had said. Which suggested he was very serious, whatever his intentions were.

 

But what could she expect from him? And, given his people's strange history, did he even know what he wanted?

 

When her hand found a locked door, she was startled out of her thoughts. None of the rest of the doors were locked, after all.

  
“You won't find anything in there,” Greeves said.

  
Donna nearly jumped. She had not heard him approaching. Although given her thoughts it was no surprise. She covered herself with a question. “How come it's locked?”

  
“Lady Eddison commands it to be so.”

  
“And I command it to be otherwise,” she ordered. “Scotland Yard. Pip, pip.”

  
Greeves went to the door with a key.

 

As he unlocked the door, Donna continued her line of questioning. “Why's it locked in the first place?”

  
Greeves paused in the process and looked at Donna. “Many years ago, when my father was butler to the family, Lady Eddison returned from India with malaria. She locked herself in this room for six months until she recovered. Since then, the room has remained undisturbed.”

 

He opened the door, and Donna stepped inside. It looked like a child's bedroom, even with the drawn curtains casting everything in faded light. A lamb toy sat at the foot of the little bed, looking sightlessly at the wall.

  
“There's nothing in here,” Greeves said.

  
Nothing obvious, Donna corrected silently. “How long's it been empty?”

  
“Forty years.”

  
Odd. “Why would she seal it off?” She turned to Greeves, because she had something to say to him even if he might be a suspect despite being in the sun room with them. “You know, I'm certain that you were no less than an under-butler at the time. You look the right age, and all that talk about your father? That's meant to tell me that you know nothing and that I'm wasting my time asking you. I understand that you're loyal to the family and that is a good character reference for Lady Eddison. However, there's no way to know now what is or isn't relevant to the murder of Professor Peach. So, the Doctor and I will have to look into any secrets we find. Understood?”

 

Greeves paled, but nodded.

 

Satisfied that she made her point, Donna added, “All right, I need to investigate. You just buttle off.”

  
Donna motioned him out and closed the door so she could look around undisturbed. Her attention was drawn to the lamb toy. It was faded from the light that had slipped in through the curtains, and it felt like cheap faux fur. It had that gritty feel that old toys like that tended to get.

 

Her musings were disturbed by hearing the faint sounds of an insect buzzing around. “1926, they've still got plenty of bees.”

 

It continued, getting louder.

 

She moved toward the source, which sounded like the window. “Oh, what a noise. All right, busy bee, I'll let you out. Hold on, I shall find you with my amazing powers of detection,” she added, putting on a mock French accent for her own amusement and looking through the magnifying glass.

  
But when Donna pulled the curtains open they revealed a giant wasp outside. She pulled the magnifying glass away, but it only made it a little less large.

 

She gasped, backing away from the window and ending up against the opposite wall. She screamed as it smashed through the glass. “That's impossible,” she muttered as she moved to avoid the wasp, which left her backed up to the broken window as the wasp had moved too close to the door, cutting off her escape route. “Doctor!” she screamed.

  
Just as the wasp seemed ready to strike, Donna got an idea, remembering those boys who liked to burn ants with magnifying glasses. She held up the magnifying glass to the broken window, focusing the bright sunshine onto the insect. It recoiled in pain, which, after several seconds, gave her the opening to run to the door and yank it open.

 

“Doctor!” Donna screamed again as she closed the door behind her. She could distantly hear running. But she screamed as the wasp's sting burst through the wooden door. But the wasp didn't. Yet that mercy didn't comfort her.

 

The Doctor and Agatha rushed up the stairs towards her. “Donna, what's wrong?” he asked, looking over her with his eyes to check for injuries.

  
“There's a giant wasp,” she gasped.

  
“What do you mean, a giant wasp?” he asked, puzzled.

  
“I mean, a wasp that's _giant_.”

  
Agatha al-but laughed. “It's only a silly little insect.”

  
Donna never liked being dismissed, and it stung – no pun intended – worse coming from one of her heroes. Her irritation came out, full force. “When I say giant, I don't mean big, I mean _flipping enormous_! Look at its sting,” she said, pointing at it.

 

The Doctor and Agatha then noticed the narrow log of wood-sized object sticking through the door, and both went wide-eyed.

  
Naturally, the Doctor's curiosity rose. “Let me see.”

 

Of course, he opened the door to find only the room and the broken window. “It's gone. Buzzed off. Although it's not here to threaten you again, Donna. That's something.”

  
Any comment Donna might have made was stopped by Agatha moving towards the broken off sting. “But that's fascinating-”

  
“Don't touch it!” the Doctor commanded. “Don't touch it. Let me.” He knelt and grabbed another test tube from his satchel, along with a clean collecting item. But he had to keep the stop in his mouth. “So it's a giant wasp,” he mused aloud as he collected the gunk oozing from where the sting had broken off from the wasp. The stopper made his words sound distorted. “Well, there are many amorphous insectoid lifeforms, but none in this galactic vector.”

  
Agatha made a noise of confusion, but still spoke. “I think I understood some of those words. Enough to know that you're completely potty.”

  
Donna had to smile a little at the appropriate word. It fit the Doctor. “Lost its sting, though. That makes it defenceless.”

  
The Doctor shook his head as he finally took the stopper out of his mouth and closed the vial. “Oh, a creature this size? It has to be able to grow a new one.”

  
Agatha made another brief incoherent sound. “ Uh, c an we return to sanity? There are no such things as giant wasps.”

  
“Tell that to the Japanese,” the Doctor remarked as he put away the sample. “They have three species of hornet large enough that most Humans would call them nightmare fodder. Now, you're right that there shouldn't be any giant wasps here in England right no. So, the question is, what's it doing here?”

 

He led them out of the room, musing the whole way. “Now, I need to run tests on both this and the sample I took from the murder scene. It will identify the species and tell me what the creature is capable of. Then I can better access what precautions we need to take and what might be our killer's motive.”

 

“Doctor, are you listening to yourself?” Agatha asked. “There cannot be such a thing as a giant wasp.”

 

“You saw that sting!” Donna retorted. “How do you account for that-”

 

They heard a scream and a heavy thud. “That's coming from outside,” the Doctor said as they raced in its direction.

 

They got outside to find Miss Chandrakala lying under a stone gargoyle that had fallen on top of her. Even Donna could tell that it had to have been pushed over. They knelt beside her, but there was nothing that could be done to save her.

  
Agatha's hand on her forehead briefly brought some life to her face. “The poor, little child,” the housekeeper breathed, and then died.

 

Before any of them could speak, they heard buzzing from above. They all looked up.

 

“There!” the Doctor shouted.

  
The wasp had grown a new stinger already, and flew back inside.

  
“Come on!” the Doctor commanded, leading the ladies back the way they came.

 

As they ran back up the stairs, Donna had to remark on the turn of events. “Hey, this makes a change. There's a monster, and we're chasing it.”

  
“It can't be a monster. It's a trick,” Agatha insisted. “They do it with mirrors.”

 

But once in the upstairs corridor where the little bits of stairs reminded them that the house had been built on a hill, she changed her tune as they saw it breaking in from above them. They watched as the new stinger appeared first, with the rest of it's giant abdomen coming in after it. “By all that's holy,” she breathed.

  
The Doctor took a few seconds to admire it. “Oh, magnificent, isn't it?” It was not a species he had seen before, and he had met some that were more humanoid in appearance.

 

Then the wasp fully entered the hallway. It faced them and buzzed menacingly.

 

The Doctor held up a hand. “Now, wait, wait, wait! Stop, now!”

  
The wasp lunged at them, forcing them to the floor to duck. It scraped the wall with its stinger and missed them. Barely.

  
Donna was not about to be attacked again. “Oi, fly boy!” she called out before holding up the magnifying glass.

 

The wasp paused, as if remembering the burns from before, and almost instantly retreated down the hall out of sight.

  
“Don't let it get away!” the Doctor cried, popping to his feet. “Quick, before it reverts back to human form.” He led the ladies from the landing down one bit of stairs into a guest wing. “Where are you? Come on! There's nowhere to run. Show yourself!”

  
Every door opened and someone Human stepped out of each room. Everyone not a servant who had been in the sun room, except for Lady Eddison and the Colonel, were accounted for.

 

“What happened?” they heard Lady Eddison's voice call distantly from behind them. “Hugh, did you hear that shouting?”

  
The Doctor groaned after the Colonel's indistinct reply could also be heard from that direction. “Oh, that's cheating,” he complained as he turned to walk away. Ignoring that Davenport had appeared from the same doorway as Roger, five seconds after and with slightly disheveled hair.

 

“You really expected it to play by some rules?” Donna asked as she followed him. “Especially given some of the beings you've dealt with?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed the change I made to the line after Agatha insists there's no such thing as a giant wasp. It came up during my back-and-forth emails with my beta, who sent a photo of the smallest of the three species hinted at. Trust me that the size makes them nightmare fodder. I recoiled when I saw it. Once I knew, I had to have Eight say it, because it seemed like something he would say.


	3. Blowing Threats Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final flashback chapter of the series. Now we know how Eight knows about Canary Wharf.

_Canary Wharf, London_

_June 2006_

 

With a brief flash, the Doctor materialized with the once-again loaned Vortex Manipulator. “They say that after this it will return to the right me for good. I'll believe that when I see it.”

 

He looked around and paled as he got a look outside. “Oh, no!”

 

Outside in the air was a Time Lord prison Ark. Somehow, its prisoners were escaping thanks to its spinning. “Daleks. They're from that one contingent that had to be contained during the aftereffects of the near Time War!”

 

His scanner at his side beeped, but only at a sonic cadence. He looked at it. “Oh, it gets better. Cybermen all over the world.”

 

A group of people ran in, and they all stopped. “Who are you? Where'd you come from?” asked the oldest man among them.

 

The Doctor turned and managed a small smile at two members of the group. “Mickey Smith and Jackie Tyler. Where is he?”

 

“Should be right behind us,” Mickey said. “Along with-”

 

Rose and the Eleventh Doctor came racing in. The former stopped still. “Not you, again!”

 

“Ah, good!” exclaimed Eleven, stopping Rose's rant. “Your timing is perfect. Unusual for us, isn't it?”

 

“How the hell did that horde of Daleks escape?!” Eight demanded in lieu of a greeting. “And _how_ did that Ark get to Earth?”

 

“Someone managed to misuse equipment later on. Unfortunately I couldn't correct it as I knew this had to happen.”

 

“Where are all those creatures coming from?” asked Jackie.

  
“Time Lord science,” Eleven explained. “It's bigger on the inside.”

  
“Did the Time Lords put those Daleks in there? What for?” asked Mickey.

  
“It's a prison ship.”

  
Rose was horrified. “How many Daleks?”

  
“Millions,” Eight answered. “Well, Doctor, have you got a solution for us?”

 

“Yes. Contact?”

 

Eight quickly met Eleven halfway, and they stood side-by-side, closing their eyes. “Contact,” Eight replied.  
  


To the others it looked like nothing was happening. Pete had had enough. “I'm sorry, but you've had it. This world's going to crash and burn. There's nothing we can do. We're going home,” he said, taking a spare yellow medallion from one of the commandos with them. “Jacks, take this. You're coming with us.”

  
Jackie looked at the medallion. “But they're destroying the city.”

 

The Doctors were vaguely aware of the words being exchanged. But they both came out of their own exchange. “Okay,” Eight said, confident. “Go and explain. I'll set most of it up!” He promptly went to one of the terminals and starting imputing commands.

 

“Good!” Eleven said, turning around to look back at where they had come from and bringing something to his face.

  
“I'd forgotten you could argue,” Pete continued, smiling ruefully. “It's not just London, it's the whole world. But there's another world just waiting for you, Jacks. And it's safe as long as the Doctor closes the breach. Doctor?”

  
Eleven turned around, wearing the cheap-looking 3D glasses common to that time's most complex cinemas. “Oh, I'm ready. We've got the equipment right here. Thank you, Torchwood.”

  
“We can slam it down and close off both universes,” Eight announced, rapidly continuing his work.

  
“Rebooting systems,” the computer announced.

  
“But we can't just leave,” Rose said, sounding wise – which drew Eight's attention briefly away from his work. “What about the Daleks? And the Cybermen?”

  
“They're part of the problem, and that makes them part of the solution. Oh yes!” Eleven cried in triumph.

 

Eight might have smiled under other circumstances. He knew he was making sure that once the others were out of harm's way they could quickly act.

 

Eleven turned to face the Humans. “Well? Isn't anyone going to ask 'what is it with the glasses'?”

  
Rose took the bait. “What is it with the glasses?”

  
“I can see, that's what,” he said. “Because we've got two separate worlds, but in between the two separate worlds, we've got the Void. That's where the Daleks were hiding. And the Cybermen travelled through the Void to get here. And you lot, one world to another, via the Void. Oh, I like that. Via the Void. Look,” he said, giving the glasses to Rose. “By this point in my timeline I've been through it. Do you see?”

  
Eight knew that Rose was seeing red and blue specs floating around Eleven, and given her hand reaching out she was trying to touch them.

  
“Reboot in three minutes,” said the Computer.

 

“If that,” Eight muttered.

  
“What is it?” asked Rose, at the same time.

  
“Void stuff,” Eleven answered.

  
“Like er, background radiation,” she guessed.

  
“That's it. Look at the others. And the only Human who hasn't been through the Void, your mother. Lucky you, Jackie.”

  
“Thanks, I think,” Jackie replied pertly.

 

“And look at the earlier me,” Eleven ordered.

 

“What?” Rose cried, turning toward Eight anyway. “Yeah, he doesn't have any around him, either.”

 

“Well, he wouldn't,” Eleven remarked. “I hadn't crossed the Void at that point in my timeline.”

 

Rose turned her eyes back on Eleven. “What do you mean?!”

 

“I barely avoided saying it on the Sycorax ship, Rose,” Eight answered. “I'm the Eighth Doctor. He's the Eleventh. We're the same man, just at different points in our history.”

 

Pete and the commando's eyes were enormous. “But-”

 

“They're like phoenixes,” Mickey explained. “And definitely the same man. The Doctor we've met repeated things that only that Doctor could've told me.”

 

Rose went silent. Her pale, dismayed expression showed that it had not truly sunk in.

  
“But the Daleks lived inside the Void,” Eleven explained, taking advantage of the silence. “They're bristling with it. Cybermen, all of them. I just open the Void and reverse. The Void stuff gets sucked back inside.”

  
“And pulling them all in!” Eight declared, pleased with the progress and solution.

  
“Exactly!” Eleven agreed.

  
“Sorry, what's the Void?” asked Mickey.

  
“The dead space,” Eight answered, not looking up from his work. “Some people call it Hell.”

  
“So you're sending the Daleks and Cybermen to Hell. Man, I told you he was good,” he said to Pete.

  
Rose held a hand in front of her eyes, seeing the material floating around her as well. “But it's like you said. We've all got Void stuff. Me too, because we went to that parallel world. We're all contaminated. We'll get pulled in,” she finished weakly, numbly as she removed the glasses.

  
“That's why you've got to go,” Eleven ordered, taking the glasses off her.

  
“Reboot in two minutes,” the computer said.

  
“Back to Pete's world. Hey, we should call it that. Pete's World. I'm opening the Void, but only on this side. You'll be safe on that side,” Eleven said to the others.

  
“And then you close it, for good?” Pete clarified.

  
Eleven nodded. “The breach itself is soaked in Void stuff. In the end it'll close itself. And that's it. Kaput. And before you say I'll get pulled in...” He held up a giant magnetic clamp. “That's why I got this. I'll just have to hold on tight. I've been doing it all my life. He won't need one, since he's clean.”

  
“I'm supposed to go,” Rose repeated.

  
“Yeah,” Eleven said, rushing to get the clamp in place on the wall. He would put it on the floor, but with another him it was unnecessary.

  
“To another world, and then it gets sealed off,” she continued, realizing what that meant for her.

  
“Yeah,” Eleven repeated, the clamp activating into place.

  
“Forever. That's not going to happen,” Rose declared.

  
“As my future self's foster daughter, you don't get a choice in the matter,” Eight said. “They're all set to sixes, Doctor,” he added quickly before stepping right into Rose's space and giving her a what-for he had been waiting to give. “The instant that system is ready, he and I will be pushing the levers. That clamp is only big enough for one person to hold on to. Anyone not safely on Pete's World will be pulled into the Void. Your place is with your mum.”

  
“If he's you then that means you never gave us a chance, Doctor!” Rose protested to Eleven.

  
“Rose!” Jackie cried. “Listen to them!”

  
'Reboot in one minute,” the computer said at the same time.

  
Rose looked at her mother sadly. “I've had a life with you for nineteen years, but then I met the Doctor, and all the things I've seen him do for me, for you, for all of us. For the whole stupid planet and every planet out there. He does it alone, mum. But not anymore, because now he's got me.”

 

“No, Rose, you never listened!” Eleven snapped, shocking her into silence. “I treated you like a daughter, and you wilfully misinterpreted my actions every time since the first Slitheen invasion. Not to mention attempted to manipulate everyone into thinking I'm your boyfriend!”

 

Eight held his questions back. This was _not_ to be missed. Now he finally understood what Mickey Smith had meant by a popcorn moment.

 

“I have family and friends back on Gallifrey, and they would have helped me with the Daleks on the Game Station had the timelines not given us a warning that you would abuse the TARDIS as you did. If we didn't know that some of it was, unfortunately, _necessary_ for future events, and that you were supposed to be there for some events after they wouldn't have let you hurt the Old Girl. But my family has had enough and so have I! I told you we were about to part ways, and today is the storm that does it!” Eleven quickly put another medallion around Rose's neck as he added, “If you're not on Pete's World when we pull those levers then you're getting sucked into the Void. And it'll be on your head if that happens.”

  
Pete pressed his button just as Rose asked, “What're you-”

 

The instant she and the others vanished, Eight and Eleven burst into action, pressing the final controls. “All ready,” Eleven confirmed.

  
“Systems rebooted. Open access,” announced the computer.

  
“We've got Cybermen on the way up,” Eight noticed on the scanners. “One floor down, but one's stopping them.”

  
“Levers operational,” said the computer.

  
“Are you ready?” Eleven asked as he moved into position.

  
“Yes, and so are they,” Eight said, noticing the Daleks appearing outside the window once he was in position.

  
They heard a flash and Rose appeared again, throwing the medallion off her neck the next instant. “That's the button-”

  
“I warned you, Rose,” Eleven said. “Now!”

 

Eight and Eleven both pushed the levers as Rose ran to the Doctor she knew.

  
“Online,” announced the computer.

  
A bright light appeared out of the breach and a strong wind blasted into it. Eleven barely made it to the Magnaclamp in time, and Eight ducked as much behind his lever as he could. All around them the breach sucked the first Daleks through the windows and into itself.

  
“Emergency!” a Dalek cried as it vanished.

 

Rose reached the lever near Eleven and managed to grab it with both hands. She clung tightly to it, her feet flying off the ground and trying to leave the rest of her behind. “Doctor, stop it!”

  
“The breach is open! All the Daleks and Cybermen are going into the Void! Ha!” Eleven cried. “And what were you thinking?!” he shouted at her as more of their enemies flew by them. “Once the breach collapses, that's it. You will never be able to see her again. Your own mother! You'll get sucked in!”

  
“I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never going to leave you!” she cried. “Why do you keep sending me away?!”

  
Eight kept low, looking for an opening to help deal with this unwanted intrusion. But the steady stream of Daleks and Cybermen all being sucked through the one broken window into the Void kept him in place.

 

Rose's grip on the lever slowly moved it a little. It was enough that the Doctors felt the suction decreasing.

  
“Offline,” announced the computer.

 

“Give her the medallion back!” Eleven told Eight.

 

“It got sucked into the Void with the Daleks and Cybermen,” Eight informed him. It had been an unwelcome sight. Now none of the Daleks or Cybermen could be sucked in.

  
Rose could now let go with one hand to reach for the Doctor. “Help me first!” she cried.

 

Eleven tried his best to avoid her reach, yet it looked like she would get a grip on his suit.

 

But Eight took the chance and hurried over. His hair and clothes were blown by the wind and yet his steps were sure. He drew out the sonic, adjusted the setting as a precaution, and reached the lever from the other side. He pulled the lever back into place.

  
“Online and locked,” the computer confirmed as they all felt the suction grow back to its previous intensity. Eight threw himself against the wall near Eleven to avoid the incoming, shouting enemies.

  
Rose screamed, needing to grip the lever again with both hands as her body again went fully horizontal. The momentum from her hand being drawn away from the Doctor she thought of as hers weakened her grip enough that she lost contact.

 

Eleven and Eight watched as she flew toward the Void. Suddenly Pete appeared, caught Rose and vanished with her in his arms. Seconds later the wind died down rapidly and the light of the Void closed itself like it had never existed in the first place.

  
“Systems closed,” the computer confirmed.

 

Eleven let go of the Magnaclamp, breathing heavily. “That stun setting wasn't necessary.”

 

“I couldn't be certain what she would try,” Eight retorted.

 

“No, you couldn't. But it's no longer our concern. I'm rid of her. I warned her that her time with me was ending, that I could see it in the timelines.”

 

“But she wanted to possess you,” Eight voiced aloud, guessing more than he wanted to. “You even risked acting like we have more than just our small remaining family on Gallifrey.”

 

Eleven would not look him in the eye. He simply kept looking at where Rose had last been in their universe. “She never respected me. She wouldn't even respect her mother in the end. Not for a little bit. Poor Jackie. If only she and Pete can make Rose listen now that she has to stay with them.”

 

“You don't sound hopeful.”

 

“Just... a sense. Based on what little I think I remember.”

 

“From what?”

 

“Not sure, but I don't think it'd be a good idea to tell you even if I knew. Tell you what, help me clean up a bit here, collect items that Torchwood doesn't need to keep, and then I'll take you back to your TARDIS. You can leave the Manipulator with me. It's mine, after all.”

 

Eight followed him out of the room. “So who are those ladies wearing our House colors?”

 

“Part of the House of Lungbarrow. In your future.”

 

“Yes, yes, yes, I know that. But who are they to us?”

 

Eleven's lips twisted into a grimace. “You know why I can't tell you. Anyway, get yourself ready. Life is about to change.”

 

“What?!”

 

“You'll see. Now stop asking questions I can't answer and help me instead! And please hand me that Vortex Manipulator.”

 

Eight did stop asking, and he handed over the Manipulator. But he constantly wondered. He couldn't help it any more than he could understand why he kept wondering about it.

 

He continued speculating silently, feeling the pressure of not knowing as he returned to his TARDIS. And he leaned against his ship's controls as he and the Old Girl resumed their journey. “Just let something good come my way for a change, _please_ ,” he muttered aloud.

 

Seconds later, the controls signaled something had changed within the TARDIS. His next adventure had begun, and it brought a new intruder to the TARDIS. One who would become as welcome as the last one foisted on him, and then some.


	4. A Mutually Great Big Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know every Doctor/Donna shipper has been waiting for this chapter... ;)

_English Countryside_

_December 4, 1926_

 

It was not long before everyone was back in the sitting room where the Doctor and Agatha had questioned each person not a servant. Golightly led the way into the room, although Robina Remond was close behind, heading to an empty sofa. Lady Eddison was inconsolable even as Roger assisted her to the sofa facing the other. “My faithful companion, this is terrible,” she moaned into the handkerchief in her hand.

  
Davenport had wheeled the Colonel into the room. Once he was settled, facing his wife and son, the footman spoke. “Excuse me, my lady, but she was on her way to tell you something.”

  
Lady Eddison shook her head. “She never found me.”

 

Davenport knew a  dismissal when he heard one and walked to stand next to Greeves.  By this time, the Doctor was leaning against another chair and the remaining women had joined Robina on the other sofa.

 

Lady Eddison added, looking at Roger and then away again, “She had an appointment with death instead.” She cried into the handkerchief again.

  
“She said, 'the poor little child', before she died,” said the Doctor. “Does that mean anything to anyone?”

  
The Colonel shook his head and his expression was harsh. “No children in this house for years. Highly unlikely there will be,” he added with a tight glare at his son.

 

Donna and the Doctor exchanged a surprised look. Given the era, they were amazed that the Colonel would allude to his son's sexual orientation so directly. And it was clear that Roger knew his father knew far more than either of them wished. Although he might not have known how much Greeves appeared to suspect, given the subtle glare the butler was giving the footman.

  
Lady Eddison must have as well, for – after the Colonel cleared his throat – she was quick to redirect the topic by addressing Agatha, who sat next to Robina. “Mrs Christie, you must have twigged something. You've written simply the best detective stories.”

  
Golightly nodded, seated behind the trio of ladies with his hands in a steeple. “Tell us, what would Poirot do?”

  
The Colonel thought the pause that followed was too long. “Heavens sake. Cards  o n  t he  t able, woman. You should be helping us.”

  
Agatha looked imposed upon and a bit panicky. “But, I'm merely a writer.”

  
“But surely you can crack it,” Miss Redmond encouraged. “These events, they're exactly like one of your plots.”

  
“That's what I've been saying,” Donna added from the other side of that sofa. “Agatha, that's got to mean something.”

  
Agatha shook her head. “But what? I've no answers. None. I'm sorry, all of you. I'm truly sorry, but I've failed. If anyone can help us, then it's the Doctor, not me.”

 

He did not like having everyone's attention on him. He assessed the situation and knew he had only one option. “Right. Everyone, settle in. I need to check something. Donna, Agatha, with me.”

 

Donna raised an eyebrow. Surely he wasn't going to bring Agatha into the TARDIS?

 

Once outside she was enlightened. He let her see it, but he insisted on going inside alone. “I need to analyse the venom in my... portable police hut. I would invite you in, Agatha, but it's a bit of a squeeze,” he claimed, managing to think of it all quickly before hurrying inside.

 

Agatha was bewildered. “Has he got room in there?”

 

Donna looked at her, and then back at the TARDIS. “He's... a smallish man.” Only hearing him call himself such allowed her to not feel embarrassed about referring to him by the phrase.

 

“And I'm useless. And a man holds all the power. Yet again.” Agatha, dejected, walked away after her justified complaint.

 

Donna followed, letting the author sit at a little wrought iron gazebo just outside the manor, leaning forward in abject distress. She sat across from her, which encouraged Agatha's moneyed British nature to draw herself up to a more proper sitting posture, and decided she had to create a distraction. “Do you know what I think? Those books of yours, one day they could turn them into films. They could be talking pictures.”

  
Agatha looked up when Donna started speaking, but frowned at the unfamiliar words. “Talking pictures? Pictures that talk? What do you mean?”

  
Donna winced, trying to keep it to a fraction of a reaction. One more thing she was ignorant of. “Oh, blimey, I've done it again.”

  
As if sensing that Donna was unwilling to expand on what embarrassed her, Agatha managed a little smile. “I appreciate you trying to be kind, but you're right. These murders are like my own creations. It's as though someone's mocking me, and I've had enough scorn for one lifetime.”

  
“Yeah, I know what it is to be mocked,” Donna sighed. “Been there all my life. Thing is, I had this bloke once. I was engaged. And I loved him, I really did. Turns out he was lying through his teeth. He turned out to be one of my mockers. But do you know what? I moved on. I was lucky. I found the Doctor. It's changed my life. There's always someone else.”

 

The words held a heavier weight after her revelation in the Library aftermath, but she was not about to admit to that.

  
“I see,” Agatha said, grim and hard even through a gentle expression. “Is my marriage the stuff of gossip now?”

  
“No, I just... Sorry,” Donna finished, unable to find anything else to say that was appropriate.

  
Fortunately for Donna, Agatha saw that no harm had been meant. “No matter. The stories are true. I found my husband with another woman. A younger, prettier woman. Isn't it always the way?”

  
Donna held her wince back. It reminded her a of few exes. Though she would only speak of the last one. “Well, mine was with a giant spider, but, same difference.”

  
Agatha's smile became genuine again as she laughed. “You and the Doctor talk such wonderful nonsense.”

  
“Agatha, people love your books. They really do,” Donna insisted. “They're going to be reading them for years to come.”

  
It made little difference. Agatha's smile faded to a sad one. “If only. Try as I might, it's hardly great literature. Now that's beyond me. I'm afraid my books will be forgotten, like ephemera.”

 

Donna tried to think of something else to say, but then Agatha's eyes drifted to a nearby spot. “Hello, what's that?” She stood, and Donna followed her as she noted, “Those flowerbeds were perfectly neat earlier. Now some of the stalks are bent over.”

  
Agatha reached into the bent stalks, and her hands drew out a small case.

  
Donna was thrilled. “There you go. Who'd ever notice that? You're brilliant.”

 

“Do you think the Doctor is done with his tests?”

 

“Maybe, but maybe not. We'll meet him as planned in the sitting room.”

 

/=/=/=/=/=/=/

 

The Doctor returned and noticed the case on the table. “What did you find?”

 

“Agatha did,” Donna said from her chair. “Someone dropped it from a window. Must not have wanted anyone to find it during my search.”

 

“And Agatha, did you tell Donna about your discovery in the library? The one I had to remind you about not keeping from an investigation?”

 

The writer grimaced briefly before looking at Donna. “Someone tossed some papers into the fireplace. Only a small fragment of one paper survived, with one word clear: 'maiden'.”

 

“'Maiden'?” Donna repeated. “What was it from? And why did the killer try to burn it?”

 

“I'm not sure we can be certain it wasn't the Professor,” the Doctor answered as he sat down, slinging his satchel to his side. “The only thing that makes sense is that someone had a secret they wanted kept secret. Did you get to look at Professor Peach's things?”

 

Donna nearly sank in her seat. “Nothing that made sense. His papers suggested he was asked to do research on Roger's government connections and his recent marriage – a detail I wasn't expecting – but what he was expecting to find in the library I don't know. So, what's in that case?”

 

He used a few household items to open the lock – as he didn't want to use the sonic in Agatha's presence – and reveal the contents. His eyes lit at the sight of a slew of lock-picking tools. “Ah. Someone came here prepared. This is the sort of stuff a thief would use.”

  
Agatha made the connection. “The Unicorn. He's here.”

  
“The Unicorn and the Wasp,” the Doctor remarked. “I feel like I just named the mystery,” he added as Greeves entered with a tray of refreshments ordered by Donna earlier.

 

“Your drinks, ladies. Doctor.”  
  


“Thank you, Greeves,” said the Doctor as they all took their drinks. Which were the same ones they had earlier.

  
Greeves nodded before departing, as the trio began drinking.

  
Once the butler closed the door behind him, Donna got down to business. “How about the science stuff? What did you find?”

  
The Doctor took out the test tube as he drank. Once he swallowed, he explained, “It's a Vespiform sting. Vespiforms have hives in the Silfrax galaxy. This is quite a way off for them.”

  
“Again, you talk like Edward Lear,” Agatha said, taking another sip as if to clear her mind from the confusion.

  
He did not acknowledge her comment. “But for some reason, this one's behaving like a character in one of your books,” he remarked before draining the drink and placing the glass aside.

  
Donna put down her drink. “Come on, Agatha. What would Miss Marple do? She'd have overheard something vital by now, because the murderer thinks she's just a harmless old lady.”

  
“Clever idea,” Agatha said. She put her drink down as the idea settled in her mind. “Miss Marple? Who writes those?”

  
Oh would she ever stop showing herself up in front of the Doctor?! “Er, copyright Donna Noble. Add it to the list,” she said, awkwardly, and hoping to avoid hacing to explain herself to a confused Agatha.

  
“Donna.”

  
The stiff tone made her think he was irritated with her. “Okay, we could split the copyright,” she began, but stopped as she saw how still and introspective the Doctor had become.

  
“No” He went stiff, listening to his internal systems. “Something's inhibiting my enzymes. Argh!” His cry, accompanied by doubling over, startled both women, and the panic in the room grew as he choked, “I've been poisoned.”

  
Donna hurried to the Doctor's side. She had never seen him doubled up in pain. “What do we do? What do we do?”

  
Agatha had knelt beside the Doctor, and grabbed his glass to sniff the drink. Her eyes went huge as a particular scent registered. “Bitter almonds. It's cyanide. Sparkling cyanide.”

 

The Doctor forced himself to his feet and used all his strength to run out of the room, although he stumbled in getting the door open. The women followed closely, wondering what he intended to do.

 

He burst into the kitchen, staggering his way in and grabbed the first servant he found. It happened to be Davenport. “Ginger beer!” he cried.

  
“I beg your pardon?” the servant squeaked.

  
“I need ginger beer. Where is it?!” the Doctor demanded, looking around as he spoke.

 

“The gentleman's gone mad,” said one of the female servants.

  
But the Doctor found some and promptly gulped it down.

 

“I'm an expert in poisons,” Agatha said, frightened. “Doctor, there's no cure. It's fatal.”

  
The Doctor put down the container, some of the surplus ginger beer spilling from his mouth. “Not for me! I can stimulate the inhibited enzymes into reversal! Protein. I need protein,” he pleaded to the ladies, gasping for breath.

  
Donna quickly spotted a container of familiar items and handed it to him. “Walnuts?”

  
“Brilliant,” he gasped and put a bunch in his mouth. More than enough that he could not talk and had to use his hands as he chewed rapidly.

  
“I can't understand you,” Donna said, trying to decipher his gestures. BSL was one language she had not learned and how she regretted that. Assuming it was what he was using. She was equally bad at Charades. “How many words? One. One word.” She thought quickly as she saw him move a hand in a shaking motion. “Shake! Milk! Shake! Milk? Milk?! No, not milk! Um, shake, shake, shake! Cocktail shaker. What do you want, a Harvey Wallbanger?”

  
He almost choked on the words he blurted out. “Harvey Wallbanger?”

  
“Well, I don't know,” Donna cried.

  
“Harvey Wallbanger is not one word!” he snapped. Although the speed he said it belied his claim.

  
Agatha took control. “What do you need, Doctor?”

  
“Salt,” he gasped, cringing in pain and struggling to breathe. “I was miming salt. I need something salty.”

  
Donna immediately grabbed a nearby container. “What about this?”

  
“What is it?” he asked, barely able to see.

  
“Salt.”

  
He shook his head. “No, too salty.”

  
“Oh, that's too salty,” Donna groaned.

  
Agatha, who had also been looking, came up with another container. “What about this?”

 

The Doctor barely looked at it before grabbing it and downing at least half the contents.

  
Donna winced at the smell. “What's that?”

  
“Anchovies,” Agatha answered as the Doctor fought to chew quickly and resumed his miming.

  
“What is it? What else?” Donna tried to figure out why he was holding out his hands wide. “It's a song? Mammy? I don't know! Camptown Races?”

  
He almost spat out the last bites. “Camptown Races?!”

  
“Well, all right then, Towering Inferno!” she snapped, panic making her sound angry.

  
He doubled over again, struggling to keep upright. “It's a shock. A shock. I need a shock.”

  
Only one thing came to mind. Donna swallowed. “Right then. Big shock coming up,” she said weakly.

  
The Doctor looked up to see Donna reach and grab his head, drawing him up to her height. Before he could open his mouth to ask what she was doing, she kissed him.

 

It was all she could think to do, all she could think of. In case it didn't work, she wanted the last thing this him knew was of love. So the kiss was not long and hard. It was long and gentle, letting everything she had come to feel for him to seep through. If he was the touch telepath he seemed then he would be in no doubt about her real feelings.

 

Suddenly she felt him seize, and she let go and stepped back. He looked up and smoke erupted from his mouth. He coughed more out, and then the coughing was dry.

  
The Doctor took several deep breaths. “I'm alive,” he gasped.

 

“It worked?” Donna whispered aloud.

 

“Yes. Detox.” He looked at Donna in a dazed silence. “I-I-I didn't...” He couldn't finish the sentence. Not with witnesses.

 

Donna flushed and her mouth slackened. He had definitely figured it out, but he did not look dismayed. If anything, he looked hopeful. And very scared as well.

  
Agatha looked back and forth between the definitely unacknowledged couple. “Doctor, you are impossible. Who are you?”

 

He looked at her briefly. “Not impossible,” he muttered. “More like... a bit unnatural. Depending on your viewpoint. Donna, are you... all-all-all right?” he added, quiet and nervous.

 

That stammer came out when he was nervous, and Donna realized he did it a fair bit with her. Especially since the Library. Unsure what to say publicly, she nodded.

 

The Doctor stepped closer. “Donna, did-did-did that mean... what it felt like it meant? The kiss itself wasn't the shock?”

 

Donna swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.” She had not felt this scared without a life-or-death situation with no clear escape plan since she had faced a group of reef sharks. While she had known that they weren't aggressive if you left them alone, the sheer number of them had meant it wasn't her finest moment as a diver. It gave new meaning to 'wet suit'.

 

He touched her arm. “We'll talk later. After we figure out how to flush out the killer. And now what's nearly happened to me. We're lucky neither of you were targeted.”

 

“But how do you deal with a giant insect?” Donna asked, needing to divert attention from them, and especially her. “What can make it go away? What kind of insecticide could possibly work on something that large?”

 

The Doctor stilled as his eyes lit with inspiration. “That's it! Donna, I keep telling you and you keep disbelieving me. You're brilliant!”

 

Donna blushed. “Well, what did I do this time?”

 

“Given me an idea we could use!” he declared as he rushed off, grabbing things and taking command of part of the dinner. Miffing the chef in the process, although he was too well-mannered to show it.

 

Agatha looked at Donna. “Is he always like this?”

 

“Um... yeah.” Donna was grateful that Agatha was choosing to not question what had happened between them, for she had no good answer herself. Let alone one that fit their cover story. “He can go from one extreme to another, but he's never cruel without reason.”

 

“But what is he planning?”

 

“Best not to ask too many questions, Agatha,” the Doctor said, startling her by proving he could overhear. “There's no way to know who has the killer's ear or has something to hide themselves.”

 

Donna was not certain, but she thought Davenport paled. Was he afraid of discovery, as he had every right to be? Or... was there some other reason?

 

/=/=/=/=/=/=/

 

Dinner was in the formal dining room. Candles provided the light to see against the thunder and lightning crashing outside, accompanying the snowfall outside. A rare case of a thunder snow storm. Although given how tall some of the windows were it seemed almost overhead. The Colonel and Roger had changed into formal evening wear, and Lady Eddison as well. Robina Redmond had swapped her red and black dress for a golden one, and her fox stole for a glis-glis fur stole. Even Agatha had changed into a more formal golden dress and a coordinating stole, making Donna feel like the poor relation. Not even the Doctor's warm, reassuring smile when they sat could erase that feeling. And it took a bit for the blush that smile provoked to fade.

 

The soup course was being served as the Doctor mused aloud. “What a terrible day for all of us. The Professor struck down, Miss Chandrakala taken cruelly from us, and yet we still take dinner.”

  
“We are British, Doctor,” Lady Eddison stated as a matter of fact, pausing in the middle of bringing her glass to her lips. “What else must we do?”

  
He allowed that point with a nod – and avoiding comment on the tremulous tone – as everyone began to eat the soup. “And then someone tried to poison me.”

 

Everyone except Donna and Agatha paused in the progress of eating. If the wide-eyed reactions or horror were any indication, this was a surprise to all of them. Which meant Greeves and the servants followed his instructions to not repeat what happened to him to the family. He did notice that no one had acted strange over his appearing at dinner. Although he thought Roger's reaction was rather restrained.

 

“Any one of you had the chance to put cyanide in my drink,” he speculated aloud. “But it rather gave me an idea.”

 

Donna was not put out that he did not mention her unknowing contribution to whatever his plan was. Best that she was left out of it, given that she was fairly accepting of her limitations and doubted she had anything else to offer. Even with the Doctor's confidence in her.

  
“And what would that be?” Golightly asked.

  
The Doctor simply picked up his spoon and held some soup up near his mouth. “Well, the ways to poison someone or something.”

 

Donna, who had put some soup in her mouth, stilled. Although the effect of several people not noticing that they let soup spill onto the tablecloth as they put their spoons down would have made her laugh any other time. She could be sure that the Doctor would not do anything to hurt her, so she risked swallowing.

 

A smirk crossed the Doctor's face in amusement over the general reaction and he swallowed his spoonful. “Drink up. I've laced the soup with pepper.”

  
The Colonel relaxed. “Ah, I thought it was jolly spicy.” He took another spoonful.

  
“But the active ingredient of pepper is piperine, traditionally used as an insecticide,” the Doctor explained, putting down his spoon. He looked around at the varied reactions from the guests and family. “So, has anyone got the shivers?”

  
As if planned, a loud crash of thunder cut through the air. The bolt hit a nearby tree, which split apart and hit the window.  The  inrush of wind and snow extinguish ed the candles.

  
“What the deuce is that?” demanded the Colonel.

  
But the Doctor was waving for quiet in the dimly lit room. “Listen, listen, listen.”

  
Everyone heard a buzzing sound.

  
“No, it can't be,” Lady Eddison breathed.

  
The lightning had faded, suggesting the storm was passing, but the burning tree outside the window made the room brighter as Agatha stood. “Show yourself, demon.”

  
“Nobody move. No, no, no, don't! Stay where you are,” the Doctor commanded as people started to leave the table.

  
But the wasp suddenly appeared in midair. Chaos and panic erupted in the room. Greeves tugged Donna to the side of the room, opening a door.

  
“Out, out, out!” the Doctor yelled, grabbing Agatha by the arm since she was closer.

 

She quickly found herself outside the dining room in a storage closet, with the Doctor, Donna, and Greeves. It seemed everyone else was scattering.

 

“Not you, Agatha. You've got a long, long life to live yet,” the Doctor said as he grabbed a sword from the panelled wall.

  
“Well, we know the butler didn't do it,” Donna said, trying to breathe some air into the situation. She noticed Greeves' surprise over being acknowledged. Possibly that he was even a suspect. But she had to note his efforts to protect her, which proved she had his respect.

  
“Then who did?” the Doctor asked as they hurried back in.

 

Remarkably, it looked like everyone else was still there. The Colonel was on the floor, wheelchair overturned but otherwise unharmed. Robina was still in her chair, as if transfixed by fright. Golightly had stumbled against a wall near the Colonel.

  
Lady Eddison, also still in her chair, was touching her neck. “My jewellery. The Firestone, it's gone. Stolen.”

  
Davenport stood stiffly at the side of the room. “Roger,” he moaned in despair, looking ready to collapse when he did move slightly forward.

  
Miss Redmond screamed as they all saw Roger plopped face-first in his soup bowl. A large knife stuck out of his back, and blood spreading outward from the wound.

  
Lady Eddison stood, crushed and beyond inconsolable. “My son. My child,” she cried as she went to his lifeless body. She sobbed, clutching and leaning against him.

 

The Doctor turned and walked out of the room. He found a nearby chair, sank into it and closed his eyes tightly.

 

Soon he felt and sensed Donna kneel beside him as she touched his arm. “It wasn't your fault.”

 

“My idea led to another death,” he said, empty and bitter. “Would the killer have targeted Roger without what I did?”

 

He felt Donna take his hand, showing him that she did not blame him. He could not meet her gaze, but he gripped back, needing the anchor.


	5. Springing the Final Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agatha reveals many secrets of the house. And it tells the Doctor who the killer is.

_English Countryside_

_December 4, 1926_

 

Donna entered the sitting room to find the Doctor and Agatha being very quiet. Agatha sat while the Doctor stood, each staring ahead without really seeing. Lightning had returned outside, although there wasn't the snowfall of before “That poor footman. Roger's dead and he can't even mourn him. 1926? It's more like the dark ages,” she remarked as she walked next to Agatha, grateful to live when she did.

  
Agatha came a little to life then as Donna began to sit. But before the writer could speak, the Doctor did. “1926 was the dark ages when it came to gay rights, Donna. Their actions were illegal and carried the death penalty.”

 

Donna paled. “No wonder Roger was warning him. And why Greeves looked so dismayed. Oh, and Greeves came to speak with me, to clear his own name since what happened could have cost him his job. When the drink ingredients aren't needed for a party like in the sun room, they're kept in the Butler's parlour. Only he, a few senior servants, and the family have access to it. He said the only person seen anywhere near the area was Roger.”

 

The Doctor nodded absently. “Not a surprise. Davenport might be a risk-taker, but he's not stupid. That would have impossible for Roger to protect him from.”

 

“Well, it helped that Davenport is Greeves' grandson. Explains why someone so young has the position he does, right? Although I can only imagine how worried the butler is over the entire thing.”

 

Heartily confused since 'gay' meant something completely different to her, Agatha finally asked Donna, “Did you inquire after the necklace?”

  
Donna nodded. “Lady Eddison bought it back from India. It's worth thousands.”

  
“This creature can sting, it can fly. It could wipe us all out in seconds,” the Doctor mused aloud. “Why is it playing this game?”

  
“Every murder is essentially the same,” Agatha commented, thinking hard and once again gazing at nothing. She was unaware of Donna looking at her, listening intently. “They are committed because somebody wants something.”

  
“Yes, but what does a Vespiform want?”

  
Agatha let out a brief scoffing noise. “Doctor, stop it. The murderer is as human as you or I.”

  
The Doctor came out of his mental fugue and his eyes lit with an idea. “You're right. Oh, I've been so caught up with giant wasps that I've forgotten. You're the expert here,” he added, sitting across from them on the other sofa.

  
“I'm not,” Agatha insisted, resting her head against her hand. “I told you. I'm just a purveyor of nonsense.”

  
“No, no, no,” the Doctor said, moving to kneel beside her. “There are plenty of people who write detective stories, but yours are the best. So why? Why are you so good, Agatha Christie? Because you understand. You've lived, you've fought, you've had your heart broken. You know about people. Their passions, their hope, and despair, and anger. All of those tiny, huge things that can turn the most ordinary person into a killer. Just think, Agatha. If anyone can solve this, it's you.”

 

Her hand had drifted away from her head as he spoke, thoughts clearly churning in her head. Lightning flashed, making her face look very pale. But a determined gleam came into her eyes.

 

Then she stood. “I need to see the Professor's belongings.”

 

/=/=/=/=/=/=/

 

As soon as Agatha felt ready, all the suspects were summoned to the sitting room.  Including Greeves and Davenport. It provided enough room, and meant it was harder for anyone to leave suddenly.  Lady Eddison sat on the same sofa as earlier, with the Colonel beside her in his wheelchair. Golightly sat across from them, and Robina on a chair behind him at the card table. Also behind him was Donna, although to the side.

 

The Doctor stood  in front of the fireplace, letting the warmth sink in,  to inform everyone what was happening.  His trusty satchel was back at his side as well, just in case.  “I've called you here on this  e ndless  n ight , because we have a murderer in our midst. And when it comes to detection, there's none finer. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Agatha Christie.”

 

He then sat beside Donna, who had grown hungry and found a snack – that he checked first with the sonic to ensure she was safe from a poisoning attempt, even if he doubted it would happen – to nibble on. He had to motion that he was not hungry to avoid – for the time being – explaining the social connotations of accepting food from her. They had no time to get into that mess, let alone discuss whatever was happening between them.

  
Agatha,having stood to the side while the Doctor spoke, came to stand before the fireplace, hands clasped behind her back. “This is a crooked house. A house of secrets. To understand the solution, we must examine them all. Starting with you, Miss Redmond.”

 

All eyes went to Miss Redmond, who started from the attention. “But I'm innocent, surely?”

  
“You've never met these people, and these people have never met you,” Agatha noted. “I think the real Robina Redmond never left London. You're impersonating her.”

  
“How silly,” Miss Redmond laughed. “What proof do you have?”

  
Agatha smiled, like she had a trick up her sleeve. If her dress had them. “During questioning, you said you'd been to the toilet,” she repeated, stressing the final word.

  
Donna, not quite noticing the wincing reaction, perked up. “Oh, I know this. If she was really posh, she'd say loo.”

  
Agatha picked up the locksmith's case, which the Doctor had laid slightly out of sight yet easily within reach. “Earlier today, Miss Noble and I found this on the flowerbed, right beneath your bathroom window.”

 

Robina proceeded to take a large sip from her wine glass.

 

“You must have heard that Miss Noble was searching the bedrooms, so you panicked,” Agatha speculated. “You ran upstairs and disposed of the evidence.”

  
“I've never seen that thing before in my life,” the young lady insisted, putting down the glass.

  
“What's inside it?” Lady Eddison asked.

  
Agatha opened it and showed the room the two levels of the box. “The tools of your trade, Miss Redmond. Or should I say, the Unicorn.”

 

Even the Doctor turned in awe amidst the gasping of the others. “I didn't see that coming,” he whispered to Donna.

 

“You came to this house with one sole intention. To steal the Firestone,” Agatha accused.

  
The woman who had claimed to the Robina Redmond was silent for a few seconds, and then suddenly changed her accent to Cockney. “Oh, all right then. It's a fair cop. Yes, I'm the bleeding Unicorn,” she admitted, standing and walking over towards the Colonel. It convinced the Doctor to stand as a precaution. “Ever so nice to meet you, I don't think. I took my chance in the dark and nabbed it.” She plucked the Firestone out from under her dress, from what the era used as a bra. “Go on then, you knobs. Arrest me. Sling me in jail.”  
  


She tossed the necklace at the Doctor, who easily caught it and sat back down beside Donna to investigate it.

  
“So, is she the murderer?” Donna asked.

  
“Don't be so thick,” the Unicorn snapped, leaning against the Colonel's wheelchair with one hand. “I might be a thief, but I ain't no killer.”

  
“Quite,” Agatha agreed, and continued while the Unicorn moved to another chair. “There are darker motives at work.” She set down the case and added, “And in examining this household, we come to you, Colonel.”

  
“Damn it, woman,” the Colonel growled after several long seconds of being looked at by everyone, including Lady Eddison, with suspicion. “You with your perspicacity. You've rumbled me.”

  
The Colonel stood, easily. Even the Doctor's mouth slackened.

  
“Hugh, you can walk,” Lady Eddison exclaimed. “But why?”

  
“My darling, how else could I be certain of keeping you by my side?”

  
“I don't understand,” Lady Eddison said, still in disbelief.

  
The Colonel took her hand. “You're still a beautiful woman, Clemency. Sooner or later some chap will turn your head. I couldn't bear that.”

 

Lady Eddison leaned her head against his hand.

 

“Staying in the chair was the only way I could be certain of keeping you,” he added. His wife's tears stopped and she looked warmly at him, showing that her affection for him ran far deeper than his fears told him.

 

Suddenly he took his hand back after looking Agatha's way. “Confound it, Mrs Christie, how did you discover the truth?”

  
Agatha's eyes were as wide as anyone's. “Er, actually I had no idea. I was just going to say you're completely innocent as you have no motive for killing your own son.”

  
The silence that followed was profound. But not as much as the Colonel's shock. “Oh. Oh.”

  
“Sorry,” Agatha said, meaning it.

  
“Well,” the Colonel attempted, seeking the right words. “Well, shall I sit down then?”

  
“I think you better had,” she agreed.

  
As he did, Donna was the first to speak, wanting to check with Agatha. “So he's _not_ the murderer.”

  
“Indeed, not. To find the truth, let's return to this.” Agatha accepted the Firestone from the Doctor's outstretched hand. “Far more than the Unicorn's object of desire. The Firestone has quite a history.” She paused for a few seconds, considering all that Donna had told her about the earlier search before turning to the next person of interest. “Lady Eddison.”

  
“I've done nothing,” Lady Eddison insisted, pretending she had not been transfixed with anxiety a few seconds before.

  
Agatha's voice went rather gentle considering the circumstances. “You brought it back from India, did you not? Before you met the Colonel. You came home with malaria, and confined yourself to this house for six months, in a room that has been kept locked ever since, which I rather think means-”

  
The whole time Lady Eddison had her eyes closed and was looking away. “Stop, please,” she interrupted, pleading.

  
“I'm so sorry.” And Agatha meant it, but there was the murder of the Eddison heir among other matters that had to be solved. “But you had fallen pregnant in India. Unmarried and ashamed, you hurried back to England with your confidante, a young maid later to become housekeeper. Miss Chandrakala.”

  
The Colonel was in shock. “Clemency, is this true?”

  
Lady Eddison's tears and clear shame was confirmation enough, even before she spoke. “My poor baby. I had to give him away. The shame of it.”

  
“But you never said a word.”

  
“I had no choice. Imagine the scandal. The family name. I'm British. I carry on,” she explained, grabbing her glass to fortify her.

 

“And it was no ordinary pregnancy,” interjected the Doctor, finally speaking aloud for the first time since introducing Agatha.

  
Lady Eddison started. “How can you know that?” she gasped in horror.

  
“Pardon me. Agatha, this is my territory,” he said, motioning for the chance to speak. He continued. “Lady Eddison, when you heard that buzzing sound in the dining room, you said, 'It can't be'. Why did you say that?”

  
“You'd never believe it,” she said, after few seconds' hesitation.

  
“The Doctor has opened my mind to believe many things,” Agatha said, sitting down to hear the story.

  
Lady Eddison needed a few seconds before she could speak of it. “It was forty-one years ago, in the heat of Delhi, late one night. I was alone, and that's when I saw it. A dazzling light in the sky. The next day, he came to the house. Christopher, the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Our love blazed like a wildfire. I held nothing back. And in return he showed me the incredible truth about himself. He'd made himself human, to learn about us. This was his true shape. A giant wasp. I loved him so much, it didn't matter.”

 

She paused to gather breath for the worst of the memories. “But he was stolen from me. 1885, the year of the great monsoon. The river Jumna rose up and broke its banks. He was taken at the flood. But Christopher left me a parting gift. A jewel like no other. I wore it always. Part of me never forgot. I kept it close. Always.”

  
The Unicorn scoffed. “Just like a man. Flashes his family jewels and you end up with a bun in the oven.”

  
While there might be truth to the comment, Agatha chose to ignore it. “A poor, little child. Forty years ago, Miss Chandrakala took that newborn babe to an orphanage. But Professor Peach worked it out. He found the birth certificate.”

  
“Oh, that's maiden. Maiden name,” Donna realized.

  
“Precisely. So I looked at Professor Peach's belongings and papers. Which, and I'm so sorry to have to bring another family shame to light, brings me to your late son, Roger.”

 

“What does he have to do with this?” the Colonel snapped. “He's dead.”

 

“I had wondered why you would say that there were not likely to be children anytime soon in this house,” Agatha began. “Only after the implications of a brief conversation between the Doctor and Mrs. Noble became clear to me did one letter in the professor's belongs make sense. He may have been researching for his book, but he was also sent here to this party, Lady Eddison, to investigate your son's dealings with one footman, Davenport.”

 

The footman paled, and only years of training kept him from falling over in the face of the scrutiny before him.

 

“Gerald was sent to investigate Roger?” Lady Eddison cried. “By whom?!”

 

“Friends of Roger's wife's family.”

 

“He was married?” the Unicorn asked, eyebrows reaching for the ceiling.

 

“You both knew the truth about your son,” Agatha continued, looking gently at the grieving parents. “But the honoured name of Curbishley and the Eddison title each had to go on; it is the duty of the heir to ensure that. So you found a daughter of family friends who was not quite taken in society the way her family wanted; a young woman Roger liked and respected. He agreed to marry her to do his duty, but friends of her family who perhaps wanted her to marry elsewhere saw something to wonder at in the marriage. And these were political enemies of Roger, angry that someone so young had made it to the position he had. I believe they anticipated Mrs. Curbishley would be present, but they did not know that she would be away visiting her dying grandmother.”

  
Donna was still unclear. “So did Lady Eddison kill him to protect one or both of her secrets?”

  
Lady Eddison exclaimed, “I did not!”  
  
“Here is the thing, Lady Eddison, and what Roger's enemies did not count on,” Agatha continued. “Professor Peach had a long history with you and your family, and he was your friend since childhood. Another letter he received, from his wife, showed that he did not wish to create the scandal Roger's enemies wishes for, that he saw no reason for you to suffer because of what sort of man Roger was. Which rather makes me think that he may have been the one who put the certificate in the fire, probably having discovered it by accident. To protect you from dealing with the public learning of your youthful shame. Though we shall never know. But in any case, Miss Chandrakala feared that the Professor had unearthed your secret,” Agatha mused aloud. “She was coming to warn you.”

  
“So she killed her,” Donna said, as close to a question as she could come without sounding like the young people who always spoke as if they were asking questions.

  
“I did not,” Lady Eddison repeated, just as fiercely, distraught.

  
Agatha shook her head. “Lady Eddison is innocent. Because she has even less motive to kill Roger. Although Roger may have worried about the Professor's intentions and the presence of an inspector at his family home. He had been protecting Davenport from being dismissed and both of them from being punished criminally, as Davenport is under the legal age.”

 

The whole room sucked in a breath. Davenport looked ill, especially in the face of his grandfather's glare.

 

“But Davenport – when he was instructed to gather the Professor's things – saw evidence of what the Professor was here for and told Roger,” Agatha continued. “Because I fear Roger, all to protect the family and Davenport, was the one who placed the poison in the Doctor's drink.”

 

The remaining guests, the hosts, and Greeves all looked at Davenport in horror. The footman was looking at his boots, yet he sensed that he was about to be commanded to speak before he saw his grandfather's tense nod giving the command. “Roger told me to not worry, that he would ensure that the investigator would not reveal the secret. I didn't know what he planned, or I would have begged him to not risk death for a different reason.”

 

“Doctor, you are the only one not surprised by this,” the Colonel said after the room was silent for several seconds. “Even your wife is horrified.”

 

“I grew up in a family that had servants,” the Doctor explained, ignoring the curious look from Donna. “I know how servants are expected to behave, and who should have access to what. I knew that one of the guests would not be able to put the poison in my drink without attracting attention. Which meant that my poisoner lived in this house, and was perhaps not the killer of the Professor or housekeeper.”

 

Agatha decided to adjust the direction of the talking. “But whatever the Professor's intentions or Roger's, it means that the murderer is neither Roger nor Davenport. Nor is it Greeves, as he has witnesses to his whereabouts for each murder. Because at this point... Doctor,” she said, clearly yielding the floor to him. She was uncertain and felt that he had likely come to some conclusions, probably because of the child part of the tale.

  
“Thank you,” he said, standing and returning to his previous place in front of the fireplace. The previous time he had enjoyed the dramatic opportunity the reveal had presented. However, here he felt a need to modify. Especially given who he had to mention first. “At this point, when we consider the lies and the secrets, and the key to these events, then I have to look at the trail of clues. First, I bring attention to you, Donna Noble.”

  
Donna started. “What? Who did I kill?”

  
He held up a hand before she could become indignant. “No, but you said it all along. The vital clue. This whole thing is being acted out like a murder mystery. That got me thinking back to you, Agatha Christie.”

  
“I beg your pardon, sir?” Agatha said, not sure if she was being accused, or of what.

  
“Doctor, where are you going with this?” Donna asked.

  
“Think about it, Donna. She wrote those brilliant, clever books. Which leads me to ask who's her greatest admirer?” Now he could turn on the dramatic touch. “The moving finger points at you, Lady Eddison,” he continued, miming the title he referenced.

  
“Don't,” Lady Eddison snapped. “Leave me alone.”

  
“But Agatha just said she was innocent,” Donna reminded him.

  
“No, wait, wait, wait. Follow my questions. Last Thursday night, what were you doing?” he asked Lady Eddison.

  
She was taken aback, but answered promptly. “I was, uh, I was in the library. I was reading my favourite Agatha Christie, thinking about her plots, and how clever she must be. How is that relevant?”

  
“Just think. What else happened on Thursday night?” he continued, turning to look directly at Reverend Golightly.

  
The vicar started from the sudden attention. “I'm sorry?”

  
“You said in the sun room, this afternoon. Last Thursday night, those boys broke into your church,” the Doctor reminded him.

  
Golightly nodded, remembering the incident. “That's correct. They did. I discovered the two of them. Thieves in the night. I was most perturbed. But I apprehended them.”

  
“Oh, really?” the Doctor questioned. “A man of God against two strong lads? A man in his forties? Or, should I say forty years old, _ exactly _ ?”

  
Lady Eddison's eyes fixed on the vicar. “Oh, my God.”

  
“Lady Eddison, your child, how old would he be now?” asked the Doctor.

  
“Forty. He's forty,” she breathed, barely able to take her eyes off the Reverend to answer the Doctor.

  
“Your child has come home,” he announced.

  
Golightly scoffed. “Oh, this is poppycock.”

  
“Is it? You said you were taught by the Christian Fathers, meaning you were raised in an orphanage,” the Doctor explained to everyone.

  
“My son. Can it be?” Lady Eddison wondered aloud, hope in her eyes.

  
This was the big reveal that he had been hoping to deliver. Only it was a bit different than he had expected, but what else did you expect from a murder mystery? “You found those thieves, Reverend, and you got angry. A proper, deep anger, for the first time in your life, and it broke the genetic lock. You changed. You realised your inheritance. After all these years, you knew who you were. Oh! And then it all kicks off, because this isn't just a jewel,” he added, taking the Firestone from Agatha. “It's a Vespiform telepathic recorder. It's part of you, your brain, your very essence. And when you activated, so did the Firestone. It beamed your full identity directly into your mind. And, at the same time, it absorbed the works of Agatha Christie directly from Lady Eddison. It all became part of you. The mechanics of those novels formed a template in your brain. You've killed, in this pattern, because that's what you think the world is. It turns out, we are in the middle of a murder mystery. One of yours, Dame Agatha.”

  
“Dame?” Agatha asked, puzzled.

  
“Oh. Sorry, not yet,” he said, giving Donna a little glance to tell her he did not do it deliberately.

  
Donna felt only a little better about her own mistakes, but she wanted to be clear. “So he killed them, yes? Definitely?”

  
“Yes,” the Doctor said, confidently. He kept looking at Golightly as Agatha stood, struggling to deal with the revelations she had not figured out. Especially the idea that her imagination had helped create the events of the day.

  
Golightly laughed. “Well, this has certainly been a most entertaining evening.”

 

“Entertaining?!” exclaimed the Unicorn, aghast. The whole room looked at her in surprise at the outburst. “What a sick comment to make! Either you're a Roman or you are the murderer!”

 

The Reverend shook his head, looking at the hopeful Lady Eddison and ignoring all the other attention. “Really, you can't believe any of this surely, Lady Edizzon.”

  
The Doctor knew everyone heard the change in his voice. “Lady who?” he asked, urging a repeat.

  
“Lady Edizzzzon.” This time it was clear he was not entirely in control of how he sounded.

 

“Sounds like a bit of buzzing there, Vicar,” the Doctor commented.

  
“Don't make me angry,” Golightly snapped, and then stood.

  
“Why? What happens then?” the Doctor challenged him, even though he saw Donna nervously get out of her chair, abandoning her food, and move to his side.

  
“Damn it, you humanzz, worshipping your tribal sky godzz,” the Reverend declared imperiously. “I am so much more. That night, the universe exploded in my mind. I wanted to take what wazz mine. And you, Agatha Christie, with your railway station bookstall romancezz, what'z to stop me killing you?”

 

As he spoke, he started glowing purple, and his head occasionally moved to look to the left, without his control.

 

The Unicorn hurried to the other side of the room with a scream, just as Lady Eddison stood. “Oh, my dear God. My child.”

  
“What'zz to stop me killing you all?” Golightly said before he transformed into the wasp.

  
“Forgive me,” Lady Eddison cried, moving towards him and holding her arms out.

  
But the Colonel drew her back, to a corner where the Unicorn, Davenport and Greeves were also trembling. “No, no, Clemency, come back. Keep away. Keep away, my darling.” It didn't stop the Unicorn's screaming, or Lady Eddison's pleas.

  
But Agatha grabbed the Firestone during the commotion and held it up as she stood by the door. “No! No more murder. If my imagination made you kill, then my imagination will find a way to stop you, you foul creature,” she declared, and ran out of the room with the Firestone.


	6. Resolutions and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vespiform's misguided journey ends, and it's time for the Doctor and Donna to face the building change between them.

_English Countryside_

_December 4, 1926_

 

_From Chapter Five:_

 

“ _What'zz to stop me killing you all?” Golightly said before he transformed into the wasp._

_  
“Forgive me,” Lady Eddison cried, moving towards him._

_  
But the Colonel drew her back, to a corner where the Unicorn, Davenport and Greeves were also trembling. “No, no, Clemency, come back. Keep away. Keep away, my darling.” It didn't stop the Unicorn's screaming, or Lady Eddison's pleas._

_  
But Agatha grabbed the Firestone during the commotion and held it up as she stood by the door. “No. No more murder. If my imagination made you kill, then my imagination will find a way to stop you, you foul creature,” she declared, and ran out of the room with the Firestone._

 

The Doctor and Donna followed her immediately, and heard the wasp follow them.

 

“Wait, now it's chasing us,” Donna cried.

 

“It's chasing Agatha,” the Doctor said as they hurried outside, and shut the main door.

 

Agatha pulled up in a car and hit the horn. The Doctor and Donna hurried toward her as the wasp burst out.

 

“Over here! Come and get me, Reverend,” she called out.

 

“Agatha, what are you doing?” pleaded the Doctor.

  
“If I started this, Doctor, then I must stop it.” With that, Agatha drove off.

  
“Come on,” the Doctor said. He led Donna to another car and quickly turned it on.

 

The time travelers watched as the wasp hesitated briefly, and then followed Agatha. They gave chase to both.

 

“For a chase, this doesn't feel very fast,” Donna remarked after a minute or so.

 

“This as as fast as these cars are able to go,” the Doctor explained, fighting against the engine to get all the speed he could out of it.

  
“You said this is the night Agatha Christie loses her memory?”

  
“Time is in flux, Donna. For all we know, this is the night Agatha Christie loses her life and history gets changed.”

  
That alarmed Donna. “But where's she going?”

  
They could see Agatha dodge a pass-by attempt by the wasp, and then they saw her pass a signpost for Silent Pool.

 

“The lake,” the Doctor realized. “She's heading for the lake. What's she doing?”

 

Agatha drew to a stop and got out of the car. Stepping away from it she called out to the wasp that had been Golightly. “Here I am, the honey in the trap. Come to me, Vespiform.”

  
Donna hopped out the instant the Doctor stopped the car. “She's controlling it.”

  
“Its mind is based on her thought processes. They're linked,” he explained.

  
“Quite so, Doctor,” Agatha said with the calmness that so many had when they were facing a death to save others. “If I die, then this creature might die with me.”

  
The Doctor hurried in front of her. “No, no, no! Listen to me! You're not meant to be like this. You've got the wrong template in your mind.”

  
Donna could see that the Vespiform was gearing for an attack. “It's not listening to you,” she pleaded with the Doctor.

 

At the next motion like an attack Donna grabbed the Firestone from Agatha and threw it into the lake. The Vespiform followed it immediately, forcing them all to duck, and sank beneath the water.

  
The water started bubbling purple within seconds. Donna took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension flee her shoulders. “How do you kill a wasp? Drown it, just like his father.”

  
The Doctor turned horrified eyes on his companion. “Donna, that creature couldn't help itself.”

  
“Neither could I,” she defended herself. “I thought it would kill you. I couldn't let it.”

  
He could think of no words in the face of her tearful expression, and so he watched the bubbling continue for a bit.

  
“Death comes as the end, and justice is served,” mused Agatha.

  
The Doctor knew what the reference was, even if it had not yet been written. “Murder at the Vicarage. Needs a bit of work,” he admitted when Donna gave him a little look reminding him of all her goofs throughout the day.

  
Agatha turned with a small, curious smile. “Just one mystery left, Doctor. Who exactly are you?”

  
But before he could even react Agatha doubled over in pain. He caught her, dropping to the ground and looking at the water. “Oh, it's the Firestone. It's part of the Vespiform's mind. It's dying and it's connected to Agatha.”

  
They both watched as Agatha glowed purple for a few seconds. Then the bubbling stopped, and the purple vanished from sight. She returned to a more normal color and sagged in his arms, unconscious.

  
“Remarkable,” the Doctor breathed. “He let her go. Right at the end, the Vespiform chose to save someone's life.”

  
Donna, relieved that her favorite author was spared, wondered, “Is she all right, though?”

  
“Of course,” the Doctor realized. “The amnesia. What we just saw wiped her mind of everything that happened. The wasp, the murders.”

  
“And us. She'll forget about us,” Donna noted sadly.

  
“Yeah, but think about it. We just solved another riddle. The mystery of Agatha Christie. And tomorrow morning, her car gets found by the side of a lake. And ten days later, she turns up in hotel at Harrogate with no idea of what just happened.”

 

/=/=/=/=/=/=/

 

Within what was a short time for them, they had delivered Agatha to a point outside the Harrogate Hotel. They managed to be out of sight when she woke and began her confused walk to the place to get help.

  
“No one except us will ever know,” the Doctor explained quietly, leading Donna back to the TARDIS.

  
Once inside and with the doors closed, Donna continued her questions that she had held back while they had made sure Agatha was fine and journeyed to her known destination. “Lady Eddison, the Colonel, and all the staff. What about them?”

  
“It's a shameful story,” he explained, putting his satchel on its designated hook. “They'll never talk of it. Too British. While the Unicorn hurried back to London town. She can never even say she was there.”

 

“So the title died with Lady Eddison?”

 

“Well, let's quickly find out. Roger did have a wife,” he mused. “Let's see what St. Catherine's House says.”

 

“You can use the TARDIS to scan their records?” Donna asked, eyes wide. “But it's no longer open in my time. It's all just the National Archives now, in a different place.”

 

“She can examine history archives without being right in the building, Donna,” the Doctor explained.

 

Several seconds later, the scan of a small newsclipping appeared on the screen. Donna gasped as she took in the words. “She was pregnant when he died! He might not have known.”

 

“But the title lived on through his son, named after him,” the Doctor said, voice heavy from this discovery, even with the hint of relief. “So Lady Eddison and the Colonel got to have a child in their home after all. So some good came from that arrangement. If Davenport was allowed to remain, and Greeves probably ensured that, then he likely devoted himself to serving in his memory.”

  
While he turned off the scanner, Donna asked, “What happens to Agatha?”

  
The Doctor smiled. “Oh, she had a great life. Met another man, married again. Saw the world. Wrote and wrote and wrote.”

  
“She never thought her books were any good, though. And she must have spent all those years wondering. I think that's awful.”

 

“The thing is, Donna, I don't think she ever quite forgot. Great mind like that, some of the details will keep bleeding through. All the stuff her imagination could use. Like, Miss Marple,” he reminded her.

  
Donna sighed. “I should have made her sign a contract.”

  
“Would never have been binding,” he pointed out, heading to one of the bookcases tucked away on the edges of his control room. “And, where is it, where is it, where is it?”

  
“What are you looking for?” Donna asked.

  
“Something I remember having and keeping on one of these shelves. Ah! Christie, Agatha. Take a look,” he said, holding out a paperback edition of _ Death in the Clouds. _ Prominent on the cover was a wasp.

 

“She did remember,” Donna exclaimed, happy to see something good came out of the day.

 

He grinned. “Somewhere in the back of her mind, it all lingered. And that's not all. Look at the copyright page.”

  
Donna took the book, and opened it to the copyright page. She noted the cover art information, but that was not what captured her attention. “Facsimile edition, published in the year five billion!”

  
The Doctor's smile grew reflective. “People never stop reading them. She is the best selling novelist of all time.”

  
“But she never knew,” Donna said, handing back the book.

  
He shrugged. “Well, no one knows how they're going to be remembered. Not even Time Lords. All we can do is hope for the best. Maybe that's what kept her writing. Same thing keeps me travelling.”

 

The silence that followed signaled that the delayed conversation from after the detox kiss had returned. And it would not rest until they concluded it somehow.

 

The Doctor took a deep breath, and exhaled loudly. “I-I-I need... I need to tell you something. I need to tell you the truth about how I feel.” He winced, wishing his nerves weren't complicating matters by making a mountain out of his stutter. It was bad enough at the best of times.

 

Donna's eyes were wide, and she had to struggle to breath. Yet she remained silent and still.

 

“And that kiss you gave me, told me that you feel the same. But I need to say it...” He stopped, as if snagged on something unseen. Which was what it felt like. “I-I-I love... I love...”

 

She watched as he struggled through the stutter and his nerves at the same time. She had seen and felt all sorts of reactions, and she knew she would be doing the same. A tiny smile crossed her lips because he was rather adorable in his flustered state. Not even her own nervousness could prevent that thought.

 

“For Rassilon's sake, I can't even get the words out!” he snapped, his feet dancing him about a bit before he made himself stand still and look right at her. He took another breath and shoved the words out before his annoying stutter could snatch them away again. “I love you.”

 

Donna sucked in a breath. He did feel the same! She felt faint from relief, and yet no less worried.

 

He almost passed out with relief, except that he was shaking too hard. “There. I've said it. Why does this seem scarier than many of the threats I've faced?”

 

“You said yourself that many emotions were unacknowledged by your people,” Donna said softly, managing an attempt at a smile. “So, it's natural that you don't know where to begin with coping with them. Maybe that's part of why you keep encountering people from the Isles.”

 

“You mean that damp rock you call home?” he asked, a tiny tease on his lips.

 

“Oi! At least we get a rain fall!” She had to swat at his arm, but there was little force behind it. Just a low-grade version of her glare. But the tiny grin belied its intent. “You know what I mean. We're not exactly the best at expressing ourselves. We use sarcasm, slang, and all sorts of ways to avoid coming out and directly saying what we mean. And all in the name of manners.”

 

“No wonder I thought a number of your politicians could have been reincarnations of long-dead Time Lords,” he laughed. But he almost instantly lost the humor. “We can't let this lie any longer, can we?”

 

She shook her head. “Because what does the mind do when you tell it to not focus on pink elephants? All it thinks about is pink elephants.”

 

“Is there a joke in there about the first name you gave me?”

 

She laughed. “Didn't intend it.” And then she sobered. “How long has it been for you?”

 

The Doctor thought about it as he motioned for her to sit on the pilot seat. He sat on the floor as an answer finally came to mind. “Hard to pinpoint the start. I wasn't exactly in a mindset to want to welcome someone in when we met. I'd just come from helping the Eleventh me see off Rose Tyler for the last time, in the middle of danger to Earth.”

 

“The Cybermen and Daleks thing you mentioned?”

 

“Remarkably, yes. Unusual for me to jump only about six months into the future of the same planet from one adventure to another. What I did know about you was that somehow your timeline held a number of fixed points for mine.”

 

“So there's a clear sense between a natural and an unnatural fixed point? Which is what told you that River Song's claims rang false?”

 

“Oh, I don't doubt she was remembering the timeline that was, and so for her she spoke the truth. But with you? I still felt the echoes of the previous timeline, that said that it was too soon to meet you. You almost immediately reminded me of Lucie, and that was painful. It was as if I got to see what she could have been had she lived.”

 

“But we're not the same, are we?” Donna asked, a little uneasy about the comparisons. “I'd hate to feel like I'm always in the shadow of someone else.”

 

“No, no, no. You had very different backgrounds and that means you look at the world differently. And Lucie was still so young. Might be why she held me on a pedestal in her mind. But you? Even if you admire someone it doesn't stop you from calling them out for even small things, and you manage it with a different touch compared to someone barely in their 20s. I don't know what could have been with Lucie, but it's possible that as she grew she found different things she wanted. Things that would have ultimately parted us anyway.”

 

“But she died before she got the chance to find out,” Donna voiced the unspoken thought. It was plain as day in his eyes. “Was that something you pointed out to Rose, this girl who apparently fixated on the two future yous?”

 

“Yes. She was even younger than she wanted to admit. Whether I was supposed to or not, I saw the proof in her mother's flat. It's not healthy for someone so young to limit themselves before determining enough about themselves to be confident that a path with someone so much older is the one they're committed to. I don't have to wonder about that with you; you've lived long enough by your people's standards to know what you do and don't want.”

 

“Well, that explains the differences between Lucie and me. But it doesn't tell me when you knew or when you think the feelings started.”

 

The Doctor looked away as he thought, aware that his cheeks were flushed. He needed a few seconds, and he knew Donna would grant them.

 

“I know I felt protective of you from the rooftop onwards. Despite what I said, I did sense something special about you but I couldn't understand it. The more I talked with you the more... intrigued I was. And it felt like parts of my psyche that had died with Lucie and Alex were reviving. I laughed more than I had in a long time, and I felt a joy in exploring that had been lacking for just as long. But as for a particular instant when they started? Donna, I don't think I can give you that. To quote one of your favourite novels, I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.”

 

It took every bit of restraint Donna had to not giggle at hearing a line from Mr Darcy quoted to her. It was every reading girl's dream, and she was not going to let a dream ruin this. “When did you _know_? Was it when Prince Rudolph tried to marry me to Death?”

 

“No. The Library, when I thought you were dead. Although the implications of my feelings did not occur to me until after you described real love to me.”

 

Her eyes widened. “You're going to have to explain that one, Sunshine.”

 

“I figured I would. Professor Smug-”

 

“Song.”

 

“No, it was either 'Smug' or 'Snog', depending on what she was doing.”

 

Donna fixed a sharp look on him. “Let's not speak ill of the dead without cause or occasion.”

 

“Fine, fine, fine. Professor Song was trying to convince me to trust her, and Lux thought we were bickering like an old married couple. Well, I took offence to that and let them both know how much. In the process I came to admit aloud that if I were to choose a Human for a wife, I would choose you because you were good for me and never asked me to do something I knew was bad for time. Something she, for all her talk of 'my rules', didn't grasp until the end.”

 

“So your realisation was about the same time mine was?”

 

His eyes snapped to meet hers, curious.

 

Donna blushed. “I was scolding myself for going and falling for an alien who might not be capable of returning the feelings right after I left the kitchen to rest. I know I noticed you on the physical level from early on, but I was getting married, which made it easy to ignore that. But as I started to see your commitment to duty, your compassion for those in need, and your belief in me... I must have started falling for you in earnest while we were still dealing with the Racnoss. Why else was I so scared by you?”

 

They were both quiet for a bit, musing on the similarities of their fears.

 

“So... what do you want to do?” he finally asked.

 

“What do you want to do?” Donna retorted. “It has to be mutual, or whatever this is between us won't work. And it seems like a lot of people haven't cared what you want. But I do.”

 

“So we both want the best for the other? Isn't that, by your standards, a good thing?”

 

“Yeah,” she answered, quietly. “I don't want to cause problems for you. Will your family accept me?”

 

He thought about it. “I don't know, but I do know that I won't let you be ripped from me without a fight. The High Council did it once, when they were concerned over how close I was to another companion.”

 

“Given Leela marrying one of your own, they can't have too much to say. Although it might grate them to see me with you, do you think?”

 

His lips briefly twitched as he imagined the reactions from certain members of the High Council. “Maybe. But given how few of us are left and that no attempts have been made to marry me off since I found an out for Romana and myself, I doubt they have the stomach to do much about it.”

 

“Wait,” Donna said, suddenly. “Ohila. She looked at me strangely. You don't think... she foresaw... _this_ , do you?”

 

The Doctor pursed his lips. “I've had enough of prophecies concerning me. Whether she did or not, I want our decision _not_ to be influenced by that. What I'm more concerned about is that being with someone much older than you will be a problem. Ohila said she could help Andred and Leela have a child, but I don't know if that will work for us. Never mind the dangers involved for you.”

 

“You're thinking of children already?!”

 

“Can you blame me?” he teased mildly. “Ohila must have been preparing me for another wife, and I did not think I could possibly find someone who made the idea seem... agreeable. And yet how can I promise anything to anyone? Being a companion means the risk of having to sacrifice yourself for the greater good, and I can't even have the luxury of such a sacrifice on my part will end my life. So, I'm left with living with the grief. And there's been one other concern weighing on me: what if being with me in that way is what leads to your death? After all, _she_ might act to harm you if we change how we are with each other. I'm not sure how I could live with that after everything else.”

 

Donna thought about it. And took a deep breath. “I can't let those fears rule us, and you can't either. I might die anyway. I can live with it, because it's the same risk I've been taking the whole time I've been travelling with you. Being... together-together, if you will, doesn't change that. We can either live in the belief that the universe is a cruel place and we need helmets to survive, or we can work towards a happier outcome, putting up a huge fight against anyone or anything – especially _her_ – that tries ending this... thing we have on anything other than our own terms. Avoiding this because of fear means we'd be missing out on an added layer to what we already have. When I look back on my life, the things I didn't do weigh on me even more than the things I did do.”

 

The Doctor stared at her with huge eyes. “Even more than the things you regret doing?”

 

“Yes. If you can promise me that you won't go off the rails from losing a lover who's going to leave your life far too soon compared to your lifespan, then I'm happy to give _us_ a chance.”

 

The smile he was treated to softened his resistance. “How would you go about helping me avoid that?”

 

“By giving you so many good memories to hold on to, by giving you good reasons to go on. That experience will help you find additional reasons to live and laugh and love again.”

 

“Doing good in your memory? Living to carry on your legacy?”

 

She nodded. “So, can you promise that? You talk like you're also afraid of costing me something, but there's no assurances for Humans, either. We never know if something will happen to us or to a loved one. It's not a reason to hide away and lose a chance at happiness, even for a time.”

 

He smiled warmly. “I can promise that. So... Onwards?” he asked, holding out his hands.

  
Donna smiled softly, taking his hands. “Onwards.”

 

The hope filled the room, and they could hear the TARDIS chiming. It sounded rather like wedding bells. He laughed. “I have a cheeky ship.”

 

Donna joined in the laughter as she stood. “She wants the best for you,” she suggested. “She just has an unusual way of showing it.”

 

He pushed himself to standing with a smile. “She does like to take care of me and help me find the right people. Even if I don't see it that way at the time.”

 

Their laughter faded as their gazes connected again. She could not recall the last time she felt the draw with anyone, and he was distinctly reminded of what happened before he and Grace parted ways. It felt natural to both to lean in for a first proper kiss between them.

 

But before their lips could meet the TARDIS lurched suddenly. Alarms went off all over the control room as the pair were knocked off their feet. And the rotor had a distinct green tinge to it, with a very low menacing sound coming from it.

 

**THE END... FOR NOW...**

 

**TO BE CONTINUED IN “Supersonic Gravidity”...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following me this far! Sadly, the next story is barely written. RL has taken over and I'm making some changes to make it better. I will make an effort to work on it this coming weekend and see whether I have enough to start posting the next part either the following weekend.
> 
> And there is another story with Eight and Donna interacting in the works! Once that gets filled in then I can get it beta'd and posted. :D


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